


Imitate the Sun

by mistresscurvy



Category: Bandom, Mindless Self Indulgence, My Chemical Romance, Panic At The Disco
Genre: AU, Arthurian, Community: bandombigbang, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-07
Updated: 2012-07-07
Packaged: 2017-11-09 09:40:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 51,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/454049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistresscurvy/pseuds/mistresscurvy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A BBC Merlin AU. The passing of the crown is never easy, but Gerard has the additional task of bringing Camelot out from the shadow of his late father's fear of magic. Meanwhile, Mikey's nightly visions are growing more ominous by the day, and Frank, a new arrival at court, is occupying more and more of Gerard's thoughts. Is Frank other than he appears at first glance? And how can Gerard, Ray and the rest of his knights protect Camelot from the dangers of the world when the threat may come from within? A tale of magic, betrayal, sacrifice and true love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Imitate the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to littlemousling for being an amazing early reader--this story would never have happened without your support and love. Thank you to mrsronweasley and amazonziti for your incredible beta work and constant support. I love you all. ♥
> 
> This story is approximately as historically accurate as Merlin itself, which is to say, not particularly.

Gerard still startled when someone referred to him as the King.

Even more unnerving was hearing the full, new name: King _Arthur._ Tradition dictated that he be known by his middle, more formal name now, but it still felt like the name of stranger. Arthur was a name that used to mean the far-off future, when he was forty-five and his father died of old age in his bed, one son at each hand.

That fantasy had died in battle two weeks ago alongside the King, the cut of the broadsword striking just below his helmet and slicing into his neck. Gerard could barely remember the rest of the battle; how, blinded by rage, he had led his men to push back their foe, decimating their ranks and destroying their organization. It was a significant victory for Camelot, save one even greater loss.

Gerard had somehow made his way back to his tent after the battle was won, Ray at his left shoulder. His first clear memory after the sight of his father's lifeblood pouring out of his neck was of his brother's face.

"I knew it was going to happen," Mikey had whispered, eyes eerily blank. "I dreamt it, Gee. I dreamt it and I made myself believe that it wasn’t that kind of dream and then it _happened--_ "

Gerard shook off the squire who was working on the armor on his legs and strode over to Mikey, clasping his face in bloodstained hands. "There is nothing wrong with you. You didn't cause this."

Mikey looked at him dully. "I didn't stop it either."

Gerard tugged him in for a hug, looking up at the beams holding the tent together. "So from now on you tell me everything that you see, even if you don’t think it’s that kind of dream, and we'll deal with it. Together."

Mikey would never call him Arthur, of course, much like Gerard never called him Michael. It took some convincing to prevent Ray from calling him Your Majesty or Arthur or Sire, but as much as Ray wanted to observe the proper protocol he knew that Gerard's stubbornness could outlast a mule's any day of the week.

Ray told him that he couldn't expect the rest of the castle to follow suit--something about undermining the already-fragile stability after defeating their southern neighbors at the expense of their much-feared (if not well-loved) king's life. And Gerard was already learning that he would need to pick his battles even more carefully as king than as crown prince, and this was not one he would win.

So long as he could keep thinking of himself as Gerard, it was easier. The full transition to power would take time, but while he had never let himself consider what it would feel like to actually be king, he had been in training for it since he was a small child, and it kicked in without his input or even consent. And his brother, as always, helped keep him grounded. 

The annual preparations for the fall’s harvest also provided a routine, a schedule to fall back on. This was a task he could handle with ease. Gerard had overseen the harvests for many years, making sure that his knights had enough grain and supplies to make it through the barren winter while also ensuring the townspeople and villagers did not starve. He had no desire to see his people suffer as a by-product of supporting his men. 

The defense of the castle, while always important, shifted slightly to the back of his mind when the air turned cool and crisp. It would take a far more arrogant and foolhardy neighboring king to attempt an attack against Camelot at the onset of winter than any Gerard knew. Camelot’s enemies and allies alike might question the mettle of her new king, but a winter siege would tax those on the outside of the castle far more than those secure inside. None were eager to stage such an attack. 

The only exception could be a king aided by a sorcerer who was willing to test Camelot’s widely-known fear of magic, a possibility that Gerard found hard to dismiss. It was one of many philosophies that Gerard and the late king hadn't shared, and while he hesitated to overthrow his father’s legacy so quickly, he knew this would need to be dealt with. It was a marvel Camelot had survived as long as she had without being challenged in such a way.

* * *

Gerard had been eight years old the first morning Mikey had come to him after a bad dream.

"What it is, Mikey?" Gerard had asked, making room in his bed for his brother to tuck in under his shoulder. 

He felt Mikey shudder against his chest. "I think something bad is going to happen to Mary," Mikey had said, muffled by Gerard's nightclothes. "I dreamt that she died, Gerard. I don't want my nurse to die."

Gerard hugged Mikey closer to him. "It was just a dream, Mikes. We all have bad dreams, but they only happen in our minds."

Mikey shook his head. "This one was different. I could feel it as it was happening."

Kissing the top of Mikey's head, Gerard prepared to erase Mikey's fear with logic and the benefit of his vast experience as an eight-year-old. "Mikey, I have been having dreams for much longer than you have, and nothing I've dreamt has ever come true. Nothing to worry about, I promise."

When Mary slipped and fell down a flight of stone steps later that day, knocking her head into the ground and breaking her neck, Gerard prayed as he never had done before. He stared while Grant examined her, hoping that there was something he would be able to do, something that would lift this from his conscience and from Mikey's. His stomach churned when Grant looked up from her body and shook his head. Gerard turned away from the sight to find Mikey staring down at her, eyes wide and skin pale.

Gerard went to his brother and lifted him into his arms. He carried him back to Mikey's room and settled him on the bed, curling up next to him.

"This was my fault," Mikey whispered. Gerard shook his head and pulled his brother closer.

"No," he said, stroking Mikey's hair. "It was mine. The next time you have a dream that feels like that one did, you tell me right away. Just me, and no one else. And we'll figure out how to fix it." He would make this right. "Promise me, Mikey."

"I promise, Gerard."

Gerard had many years after that to consider how others might see his younger brother, what uses he could have, or the fear he might inspire. He thought about their father's potential reaction as well; while Gerard wanted to believe that the King's distrust of magic wouldn't extend to his own son, he couldn't be sure.

Mikey wasn't the heir, after all.

Mikey slowly learned to discern between which dreams were just dreams, and which were visions, and even more time to learn how to stop them from happening. Some visions he knew were out of his control--there was little to be done to prevent the late frost that killed so much early planting--but they were able to mitigate the damage more effectively. 

Mikey never told anyone other than Gerard, for Gerard was completely unwilling to risk it, even once Mikey was a grown man, and Mikey was content to follow his brother's lead. 

They matched each other, complementing each other’s weaknesses as rulers. Gerard had been taken aside and warned by well-meaning but delusional dukes and lords who cautioned him against trusting a younger brother so much. It was everything he could do to not spit in their faces for insulting Mikey so. For truly, there was no one else alive who made Gerard believe he could be a good king like his brother did. 

As he got older, Mikey's confidence in his ability to distinguish between a regular dream and a vision grew, until he didn't need to share each dream with Gerard anymore. It wasn't until Mikey unconsciously chose to ignore a vision he didn't wish to believe could be true that this was revealed for the folly it was.

* * *

Two months after the death of the King--two months into Gerard's new reign--Mikey entered Gerard's chambers as he always had: without a formal announcement or even a knock. “Hey Gee.

“What is it?” Gerard asked. He posed in front of his mirror, a new tunic draped across his chest. “And good morning. Also, what do you think of this color on me?”

Mikey didn’t even glance up from his armful of books and scrolls. “It’s fine. There’s a new troubadour that’s come through the village today just in time for the harvest moon feast. Shall I have him added to the festivities?”

Gerard considered this for a moment. He didn't want to change much about this year's celebration; his people had dealt with enough upheaval this year. On the other hand, there were few things he enjoyed more than a good troubadour.

"Does he look talented, do you think?" he inquired.

Mikey rolled his eyes. "He looks much like a troubadour tends to, Gerard. They don't generally come bearing signs that reflect whether they're worth listening to."

"No visions about that then?" Gerard asked lightly.

Mikey shook his head. "No visions about anything lately, you know that. I would tell you." He looked at Gerard. "Nice attempt at prying though."

Gerard shrugged. "It's for you that I ask and not for my own sake, you know that."

"I do," Mikey agreed. "It doesn't make it any easier. Now, Gerard. I need a decision on this troubadour, because he either should be housed or sent on his way."

"Let's add him to the evening," Gerard decided impulsively. So small a change couldn't possibly hurt.

* * *

The Great Hall was prepared with a massive feast for the evening, turkeys and boar and venison and other wild game presented along with the roast chickens and pig and beef. It would be the last such meal before the winter solstice celebration, and the castle's cooks were busy making it special. The tapestries had been freshly cleaned and everyone was in their finest wear, the best they could produce for such an evening. Gerard himself was on display for the first time since his coronation; he was the center of the festivities, and the main focus of all.

The crowd was comprised of his people, he knew. Those who knew him from before loved him and would follow him gladly. Those who didn't were satisfied to wait and see what sort of man, what sort of _king_ he would be without judging him based on his father. They were waiting for him to lead them.

But he needed to know what he was leading them towards.

Between the third and fourth courses, Ray leaned in from his seat at Gerard's left hand, as easy in his presence as he ever was on the battlefields. He topped off Gerard's goblet of wine, then his own. "So where is this new troubadour Mikey was telling me about?"

Gerard finished a bite of the pheasant and washed it down with a large gulp. "I haven't seen him yet, but we should have a bit of entertainment and storytelling set to music. I believe he'll be here any moment."

At that the large oak doors at the far end of the hall opened, and a small man in a gorgeous deep green cloak and tunic walked through, holding a lute. He looked confident making his way through the crowd, deftly avoiding the serving girls and taking no notice of the growing attention on him as he moved towards the raised dais at which Gerard sat. He stopped about ten feet in front of Gerard, bowing deeply.

"Good evening," he said, voice ringing out through the hall. "I am here to offer you all a tale of courage, of honor, and most of all, of great daring." And with no more introduction than that, he launched into song.

Gerard couldn't take his eyes off him.

There was something about this man that went beyond the music and story, although both were excellent, or the way he closed his eyes for a second before they snapped back open, focusing on each person at the head table in turn. Gerard wasn't used to many visitors to his court holding his gaze, but the troubadour stared at him steadily while singing of a knight who defeated foes much greater and stronger than he through sheer force of will, and it was Gerard who broke first. He looked down at his table and swallowed hard, his heart pounding, and when he took a drink his hand shook as he lifted the cup to his mouth.

A hush fell over the Great Hall over the course of the performance, the troubadour's command of the room complete, and when he finished all was still for a moment before the applause began, a breath full of possibility and wonder. Gerard banged his cup on the table in appreciation, Ray joining in beside him, before he stood up to address the man.

"You have done your craft proud tonight. The whole hall shall raise a glass to toast you now," he said, lifting his cup as his subjects followed suit. "For such a display I invite you to dine with us. Set a new plate."

The troubadour bowed low in response. "It would truly be an honor, Your Majesty."

He was escorted to the end of the high table; Gerard craned his neck to watch him for as long as he could, despite how ridiculous such a posture must look. 

Of course, the fact that no one else would dare comment did nothing to save Gerard from his own brother. "You should have told them to seat him next to you, it would have prevented significant neck discomfort."

Gerard nudged Mikey, who slouched where he sat in his usual place at Gerard's right hand. "I do think Lady Alicia is looking uncommonly pretty this evening," he said, nodding his head at the lady in lilac who was walking towards the head table. He knew his brother would see through such an obvious conversational diversion, but he was pleased nonetheless that Mikey sat up straighter as he turned his gaze to her, his focus caught.

"She always looks uncommonly pretty," Mikey said, his face brightening almost imperceptibly.

"So is she merely commonly pretty by her usual standards today? I she only exceptional in comparison to the other ladies of the court?"

"No," said Mikey, his voice serious. "She stands out this evening even when placed against my memories of her." He raised his voice again when Alicia reached the table. "I was just telling my brother how lovely you look tonight."

"I believe I admired her first tonight, Mikey," Gerard protested, smiling broadly at her when she tore her gaze away from his brother.

"Your Majesty is most kind," she said in response, her curtesy graceful and elegant. Gerard didn't suppose she would ever call him Gerard in public, but he would attempt to convince her again at some smaller gathering in the future. 

"Gerard did not fail to notice such beauty," Mikey agreed. "I do not know how any person could. I hope I might speak with you and your father later tonight?"

She blushed, which only made her more lovely. "With pleasure, Your Highness." 

Gerard watched Mikey as he followed her with his eyes. "You have fallen hard, brother."

"Who could blame me?" Mikey said philosophically. "She is almost without compare. Indeed, the only person prettier in this room may be that troubadour."

Gerard immediately shifted to try to see him again, as unable as his brother to ignore a topic of conversation he so wished to discuss. "I wonder if he has a contract with any of the neighboring lords for the winter, or if he plans to travel throughout the winter season."

"Easy enough to find that out. James!" Mikey called out to his manservant. "Would you bring over the troubadour? The king would question him."

"Mikey, what are you doing!" Gerard hissed through his teeth.

"Helping you. Ah, here you are. Gerard has a question for you," he said to the troubadour, who now stood in front of them. His hands were clasped behind his back but his shoulders were loose; he looked significantly more relaxed than Gerard felt.

Gerard swallowed and attempted to look calm, even kingly. "I was merely wondering whether a troubadour of your talent has been contracted with a family for this winter, or if you intend to travel through."

The troubadour once more met his eyes steadily. "I have no commitment at this time, Your Majesty. I go where I hear there may be people willing to pay for a song and a story."

"What is your name?" Mikey interjected. 

The man opened his mouth and then closed it quickly; he seemed to gather himself before speaking. "I am called Frank."

"Well, Frank, would you be opposed to an agreement?" Mikey asked. He didn't even flinch when Gerard kicked him. "Or do you prefer the wandering life?"

There was no immediate answer; Frank's eyes flicked to his left for a moment before he spoke. "I have no objection to such an arrangement, but I have not yet been offered one."

Mikey nodded. "Well, your luck has changed, then. I would like to invite you to winter at our court. I am certain that you will make the long dark months pass more quickly. Unless, of course, my brother would prefer otherwise?" he asked, glancing over at Gerard. 

Gerard could only look back in shock. He widened his eyes at Mikey, who tilted his head ever so slightly towards Frank, and Gerard sighed inwardly. Only his brother. He turned to look at Frank and attempted to smile. "I would be glad to have such an addition to our court. If, of course, this would be acceptable to you?"

He knew that Frank would accept; no one would refuse such a position in Camelot, despite the old King's well-known distain for such petty amusements. Gerard considered the introduction of music and art to his court to be second in priority only to repairing the damage done by his father’s distrust of magic. And this was a change far easier to achieve.

Frank, as expected, agreed readily. "I would be most honored to play for you and your subjects this winter, Your Majesty. I thank you for your gracious offer." He bowed again, this time more fully than the last.

"My man James will find you a room," Mikey said. "I look forward to a winter far less boring and tedious than in the past."

Gerard did as well, if not without a little apprehension. Trust his brother to complicate things. "You may go now," he said to Frank. "I look forward to hearing you sing for me again." 

"It will be my pleasure," Frank said, and with a sharp little turn he moved to return to his place. 

"I don't want to hear it," Gerard said, picking up his wine once more.

"I wasn't about to say a thing."

"Well, good."

* * *

It was Gerard's responsibility to his castle that made him keep an eye on how Frank was settling in, of course. He needed to ensure that such a distinguished guest of Camelot was well cared for, that his rooms were sufficiently comfortable, that his servants knew to be courteous and polite and not presume any sort of liberties simply because he was a musician rather than a noble.

He ignored Mikey's sideways looks when he spoke with the head cook about finding out if Frank had any meal preferences that could be accommodated, and he was merely being thoughtful when he checked in with the healer and his new apprentice to make sure that Frank would not be refused any sort of teas or immersions that might assist him with his voice.

"Did Frank ask for your help? Seems pretty unusual for a singer to be sending the king on his errands," said Lindsey. She had arrived at the castle only a few months prior, but Grant had already entrusted her with preparing all of Gerard's own salves and remedies.  

"I just want to make sure he'll be able to fulfill his duties. Now, if you'll excuse me," Gerard said quickly, turning to leave. 

"You can do whatever you want, you know! No need to ask for permission," she called out after him. 

He needed to do a better job of remembering that.

Gerard found himself attempting to analyze the way Frank responded when he spoke to him after he performed to ascertain whether Frank was happy or not, but it was surprisingly difficult to tell.

“Frank!” Gerard called out once as Frank walked past Gerard’s table, strumming lightly on his lute. Gerard’s words dried up in his throat when Frank stopped and looked up at him. “Um. I quite enjoyed your last piece this evening. It was different than what I’ve heard before.”

Frank’s face brightened at the comment. “Yes, it’s something new I’ve been working on. First time I’ve played it.”

“Ah, yes, it was lovely. I’m very happy that you felt comfortable debuting something for us. You should do that as often as you’d like!” Gerard winced as the words tumbled from his mouth. “Not that you need to perform something new every night, of course, just that if you want that would be fine.”

Gerard was fairly certain that most kings didn’t have this sort of difficulty in talking with their entertainment. 

Frank laughed for a moment before attempting to turn it into a cough. Gerard wasn’t fooled. He knew he was laughable. “I’ll keep that in mind, Sire. And now I must get my dinner from the kitchens, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Make sure they give you the dish without the turnips!” Gerard called out. Frank gave him a confused nod in response. Gerard just barely prevented himself from slapping his forehead once Frank had left the hall. He needed to maintain some dignity, after all.

He kept watching Frank closely at every dinner while he performed, studying his face and the way he moved. This was, after all, a big change for Frank. He was used to the open road, to not having a set schedule, to being free to wander. 

"Yes, and to not knowing whether his next meal would be hot or just a lump of bread. Sounds terribly thrilling," Ray said after Gerard had mentioned his worries. "I can't imagine why anyone would be happy to stay in one place where he knew he would be fed and warm and have an attentive audience. Must be just awful."

Gerard chucked a piece of bread at him. "Yes yes, mock me if you will, but it must be different for him, and I would like to hope it is in a positive way, that's all." He kept one eye on Frank even as he finished the delicious beef stew the kitchens had produced today. "It's hard knowing that he might not have even wanted this position at all."

"He could have refused," Ray said mildly. 

"He could not, can you imagine? Who would turn this down?" Gerard asked before he realized the trap he had just walked into. 

"Yes indeed. You can either worry that he's miserable or you can obsess over whether he entered into it of his own free will, Gerard. But both at once is a bit much, even for you." Ray sopped up the last of the stew with the heel of his bread and popped it into his mouth. "Or you could even just ask him. Perhaps engage him in some light conversation about the state of the troubadour in these difficult economic times."

"Why do you all hate me," Gerard said miserably. 

Ray patted him on the shoulder before standing up. "How could we hate someone so easy to tease, Gerard? Well, I'm off to find Christa. Early start tomorrow, yes?"

Gerard waved him off. "With the sunrise. We need to keep fresh."

The next morning dawned crisp and clear, an ideal day for an extended training drill. Gerard let his mind grow quiet as his squire buckled him into his armor, turning automatically at the slightest pressure.

Even when he was a boy, the training yards were the one place Gerard felt immediately confident, even kingly. Mikey, were he ever to take the throne, would rule through his exacting intellect, his knowledge of every person, his memory seemingly designed for recalling which lord wanted what lands and how a marriage was impacting a village.

That was not Gerard's strength, to say the least; he had Ray and Mikey to keep track of the subtler politics and steer him true. Without them he'd be lost.

The battlefield was something else entirely. He could move with the flow of his army, could anticipate and counter and strategize on the fly, his body responding before he had the conscious thought. It was with his men on the field that his eloquence appeared as well, his ability to rally them together, to inspire them to follow him against a foe twice as large and three times as strong.

They followed not merely because they had to, but because he made them believe they could win, always.

Experience bore this faith out, his reputation as his father's general known wide and far. The old king had not ridden into battle for years before he died, trusting his heir to lead Camelot to victory. It was only this last particular challenge that enflamed his pride once more and led him to eschew the wisdom of his advisors and his sons.

And look what happened to him, Gerard thought guiltily.

He shook his head at himself, tried to sink back into the feeling of the metal moving around his limbs, the tight encasement of the chainmail. His squire looked up at him, and Gerard smiled briefly, casting his darker thoughts aside.

"Thank you, Ryan," he said. "Now hand me my sword."

When he strode out onto the field to meet his knights, he felt unburdened even with the weight of the metal on his body. His mind was free.

The actual training was a blur, instinct and long practice melding together into a sort of dance of arms. He let himself get lost in it, only pulling back enough to observe the occasional weaknesses in his knights and then make them stop, fix and adjust and learn. This was where his attention to detail was needed, necessary, and it was as easy as breathing air. It would be harder to ignore it than not.

Ray's constant presence by his side allowed him to focus this way. No man mattered as much, could ground him so well in the midst of a fight. There was no doubt in Gerard's mind that were it not for Ray, Mikey would be king now. Ray was the man who compelled Gerard to demand surrender. Without him, Gerard wouldn't have stopped until every last one of them had been dead, or he was.

The battle rage that took over him during that moment in the field scared him more than anything else, so unlike anything he had ever experienced before. It was why this training was so necessary. Gerard needed to regain the trust in himself before he could allow the men to trust him again.

"That's very good, Brendon," he said, watching a young knight parry and then counterthrust efficiently. "Much improved."

"Thank you, Sire!" Brendon's exuberance worried Gerard at times, but his desire to be good and willingness to work as hard and as long as necessary to improve spoke well of him.

Gerard stepped back from participating and simply observed for an hour or so, weaving through the pairs and trios of knights and offering his critique. His men responded to him as they always did, fast and eager and with just a touch of the arrogance that every warrior needed to stay alive. Each of them had to truly believe he could win against any man, no matter how skilled and strong his opponent was.

The weak sun was nearly overhead when Gerard spied an unknown knight cresting the hill and approaching them. When he turned to find Ray, he saw that he had already noticed him. 

"I think Brendon's earned a turn at a challenge," Gerard said.

Ray nodded. "I'll let him know."

Both Brendon and the challenger displayed themselves well, and when the new knight knelt before Gerard and swore his fealty to Camelot, Gerard was certain that Spencer, son of a blacksmith, would be a valuable addition to his knights. 

It was a good morning.

He compared notes with Ray as they made their way back to the castle, confirming his thoughts about the need for focusing more on endurance for certain of the men and explosive strength for others. He thought about going to see Lindsey for more salve for his left ankle, an old injury suffered when a nervous young knight caught him off-guard in a sparring match last spring, but he decided to drop in on Mikey first. They hadn’t spoken since the night before, after all.

Mikey was at his desk, immersed in paperwork, but willing to give his brother his attention. "Hey Gerard. Good training, I take it?"

Gerard nodded, ruffling Mikey's hair before collapsing onto the chair next to the window. "The men are in good shape. But we need to continue having the full training drills for the whole winter, maybe once every fortnight, as well as our daily rides. Have to keep fresh." He scratched at his belly where his belt had dug into his skin, his flesh slightly raised and irritated. Maybe he needed a salve for that as well. "How did you sleep last night?"

Mikey pushed away from his desk and looked over at Gerard. "Fine. Not much in the way of dreams."

Not much wasn't the same as nothing. "What did you have for dreams?"

Mikey shrugged. "Couple of hazy ones about the spring, nothing too clear. And then of course there was the dream about you and Frank."

Gerard stared at his brother, questions leaping from his mouth before he could contain them. "What? It wasn't one of those dreams, though, was it? And what happened?" 

Mikey's laugh only confirmed his poor censoring skills were getting him in trouble again. "Gerard, I didn't have a dream about you and the court troubadour. That's only you, it would seem," he said, turning back to his work.

Gerard sighed, defeated. "Mikey, I don't mean to think about him!"

Mikey smiled down at the parchment. "Hmm. Just like you don't mean to watch him, or ask if he's cold, or spend an impressive amount of time humming his music."

"I hum his music?" Gerard repeated.

Mikey nodded. "You do. Apparently without meaning to."

"You don't think he's bewitched me, do you?" Gerard might not disapprove of all magic, but that didn't mean he wasn't wary of it.

"Only if you can be considered to be enchanted by brown eyes," Mikey said dryly, and Gerard huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I just think that he's talented. And I want him to be happy," Gerard muttered. "It's not like I have a habit of this or anything."

"I know, Gee," Mikey said. "If you did, I wouldn't tell you to continue talking to him."

"I'm the king, I can talk to whomever I want to," Gerard said petulantly. "That's not really the difficulty."

"Maybe you should talk to him alone, then. Back in your rooms. Take dinner by yourself every once in a while, but with musical accompaniment."

"Don't you think that'll be rather obvious?" Gerard asked, trying to imagine how he would go about suggesting such a thing.

"Generally when you're attempting to bed someone being at least somewhat obvious is a good thing," Mikey said.

"I'm not trying to bed him!" Gerard flapped his hand at Mikey when he rolled his eyes. "I'm not! Or. I'm not _just_ trying to bed him."

"Yes yes, you want him to desire you in return, fine. So ask him, see how he responds, and then let it play out from there. You don't need me to have a vision about this for me to know this is the right course of action."

"Fine," Gerard said. He crossed his arms over his chest, studying his brother with care. Two could play at this game. "And how are you doing? Any progress with Alicia? I don't know where you get off yelling at me about this, all you need to do is ask for her hand and you're all set. No one can be in doubt of that from how you are together."

Mikey blushed. "We're not quite there yet."

"What are you waiting for, then?" Gerard much preferred this conversation when it was about Mikey's love life and not his own.

Mikey shrugged. "The right moment. I'll know it when it comes." He stood up and stretched, hands reaching for the ceiling. "Now stop changing the subject and go find Frank."

That evening after the meal in the main hall concluded, Gerard followed Frank down the hall. “Frank!”

He turned around and blinked up at Gerard. “Yes, Your Majesty? Is something the matter?”

Gerard shook his head, already flustered. “No no, nothing’s wrong. At least. Nothing is wrong from my standpoint, but that’s, well. What I wanted to ask you.” Frank looked at Gerard, brow furrowed. Damn, he’d already botched this up. “I was wondering how you’re settling in, if you have everything you need. I know this is a different routine than you’re accustomed to.”

“Oh!” Frank said, face clearing. “Everything so far has been wonderful. I have to say I wasn’t expecting such attention to my comfort and preferences, but everyone has been very kind.”

Gerard flushed. “I am glad to hear it. I also wanted to say that we’ll be having fewer of the main meals in the hall during the next month or two, and I would appreciate you providing music for me in my rooms while I dine on those nights.” He hurried to clarify when Frank’s expression grew--puzzled? Concerned? “You would of course be able to eat there afterwards as well. And sometimes Mikey would be there, and Ray as well. If that is all right with you.”

Frank had drawn up taller somehow during the last of Gerard’s speech, and he bowed crisply. “I would be honored to perform for Your Majesty and whomever else you wish." He stood back up, gaze growing less certain as he stared at Gerard. "If that is all?” he asked tentatively.

“Yes, yes, of course,” Gerard said, stepping flush against the hallway and gesturing out with one arm. “By all means. I will see you tomorrow night?”

Frank nodded and hurried down the hall. Gerard felt good about the conversation on the whole. Well, he felt decent. 

At least he hadn’t thrown up. 

The next evening Gerard was pacing in his room, back and forth, when someone knocked tentatively and then Frank pushed open the door. 

“Good evening, Your Majesty,” he said, looking around the room and then focusing on Gerard. 

“Good evening, Frank. You may set up over in that corner, if that’s agreeable to you.”

“Yes, that's fine,” Frank said, moving into the space and then settling into the low cushioned bench near the window overlooking the courtyard. He began tuning his lute, head bent low over his instrument, and Gerard couldn’t help but stare.

It wasn’t until Frank caught his glance that Gerard realized Frank had noticed his gaze. He turned and walked back to his table, sitting down over his meal of cold meats and cheese and bread. Gerard hadn’t quite thought out the fact that he would be alone with Frank, in a much smaller room than ever before, but now that Frank was here his entire body buzzed with the knowledge. He felt clumsy and off-balance, and he wished abruptly for his sword, or his horse, or something that might make him feel more himself. 

When the sounds of Frank tuning his lute stopped, he looked up finally, expecting to see him start his first song, but instead he found Frank staring back at him, hands still on his instruments. “Your Majesty, I--” Frank stopped, and then shook his head a little before beginning again. “Why am I really here?”

Gerard didn’t know what to say other than, “To play for me?” His voice sounded tentative and uncertain in his own ears.

“And?” Frank asked, hands suddenly active on the strings again.

“And to talk, perhaps? If there’s something you need to say--oh,” Gerard said, heart dropping into his stomach. “Are you unhappy? Is that it?”

Frank laughed a little. “I am perfectly happy, Your Majesty. I am just not aware of very many kings who invite musicians to their private rooms to simply play music and _talk._ ”

Gerard stood up at that, finally comprehending Frank’s meaning and chastising himself for being so foolish. “Frank, I apologize profusely if that was the impression I gave you.” He walked over to his door and opened it. “If you would prefer to leave now, I understand. I wanted only your-- _musical_ company,” he said, ignoring the voice in his head that called him a liar. 

Frank stared at him. “Well. You asked me to play for you, so I will.”

“Are you sure?” Gerard wanted to smack himself, but there wasn’t much else he could do to fix the situation now. 

Frank nodded. “I said I would be happy to play for you, and I am.”

Studying Frank for a minute more, Gerard finally closed the door and returned to his table. “Well, thank you. Please start with whatever you would like,” he says, attempting to ignore the small smile that crossed Frank’s face when he began to strum. 

Gerard wasn't sure this was all that good of an idea, at least not if he actually wanted to eat any of his dinner. He kept putting the fork down and staring at Frank, taking the opportunity to take notice of all of the tiny details about Frank he wasn't able to see in the main hall. The proximity itself was a distraction from his meal, and after Frank's comments about why he was _really_ here, it was hard to keep those thoughts and ideas out of his mind.

Frank's mouth formed around the words so beautifully as he sang, his lips full and open even when he was picking out a melody from his lute and not singing at all. He looked down at his instrument for most of the performance but would flick his eyes up and stare back at Gerard occasionally, completely confident in being observed like that.

Of course he is, Gerard thought. He is a performer, that's what he does and who he is--there's nothing else he could do. But there was something more than that, something that made him think that Frank was no stranger to the attention of many.

The next day he mentioned his suspicions to Mikey as they were walking through the woods that loomed to the north of the castle. Theoretically, they were hunting, but really Gerard just needed to spend some time outside the castle walls. "There's just something about him, Mikes. He's not like the other troubadours we've seen."

"Yes, because we've seen so many," Mikey commented.

Gerard knocked into his shoulder. Twice a year at midsummer and the winter solstice were enough to form an opinion, he was sure. "I've just never seen another performer invite my gaze like he does."

"Perhaps there's simply never been another person who's captivated you like he does," Mikey says. "Why is that possibility so hard to grasp?"

"There has to be more than that, though!" Gerard protested. "How can it just be a matter of being beautiful and talented and charming?"

Mikey laughed at him. "Why do you think I noticed Alicia, then? Something in my dreams? Or was she simply the first woman who ever walked into a room and made the rest of the room disappear?" He turned to his left when there was a rustle in the brush but didn't bother bringing up his bow to take a shot. "All of that is more than enough."

Gerard sighed. "I suppose. Would you like to dine with me tonight? Perhaps it will be easier for me to put my finger on what's so special about him if we're not completely alone."

"I'd really rather you didn't do that in my presence," Mikey said dryly, but that evening he still knocked on Gerard's door to sup with him.

"Frank, you remember my brother," Gerard said, and immediately regretted it. Yes, let's do introduce the first in line to the throne to the troubadour, Gerard. Well done.

Frank didn't act as if Gerard had said anything odd at all. "Your Highness," he said in greeting to Mikey before bowing to them both. "Any special requests?"

Mikey waved a vague hand. "Whatever you're most in the mood for would be fine."

Frank laughed. "I must say I've never encountered royalty willing to engage a court musician with so few opinions about the choice of music itself."

"We have opinions!" Gerard said quickly. "Only our opinion is that anything you play will be delightful, so we'll leave it to the expert."

"I see," Frank said, his eyes bright and mouth twitching at the corners. "Well, I wouldn't want to disappoint such expectations." He began to play, a different melody than those he had played for Gerard in the past, and Gerard let his fingers tap in time on the table, swept up immediately.

Mikey didn't stay for very long. He kissed Gerard's cheek when Frank was only midway through the fourth verse and gave a little wave to Frank as he left the room. Gerard felt the intimacy even more now, and Frank seemed to be looking at him more often and intently than he had in the past, his eyes pinning Gerard to his seat.

When Frank finished the new song, Gerard began to clap, compelled to respond so. "I think that's my favorite of everything you've played. Thank you."

Frank looked down, his lashes shadowing the tops of his cheeks. Frank's left leg was bouncing a bit, and Gerard wanted to squeeze his thigh just above the knee, to calm him and feel that intensity for himself.

He was expecting it this time when Frank looked up and held his gaze, and for the first time he didn't break first, just let Frank look at him and waited to see what Frank would say.

His comment when it finally came was more direct than Gerard had expected. "I never thought this court would invite a musician to winter here."

"Lots of things are changing." 

"More than just the music?" Frank asked.

Gerard nodded. "Yes, although most of the changes won't happen so easily or quickly."

"Like what?" Frank inquired, his eyes open and inviting.

It took Gerard a moment to arrange his thoughts before he spoke. "My father was a good king--a good man, and a ruler who knew what he wanted for his people." He looked down at his hands, pausing a moment as Frank was silent before he continued, "And yet he was himself not without prejudice, and fear, and a desire to avoid change if he possibly could." His words gained speed as he mind raced ahead. "He thought the most he could do for his kingdom was to prevent bad things from happening. He never thought about how to improve life--he merely aspired to keeping things the same."

Frank studied his face. "But that wouldn't content you."

"Not at all," Gerard said. "I want to make people's lives better, not simply protect them from harm. I want a court filled with well-fed people who also can enjoy some music on a cold winter night. Mere survival isn't enough, Frank."

Frank's idle fingers once more began picking out a melody on the lute. "Well, I am honored to be able to contribute to your vision of such a kingdom." He started to play a song that Gerard recognized by now, one of his favorites. Frank changed the lyrics a bit every time he played it, somehow making the story fresh and new with each performance.

Gerard fell asleep that night, Frank's melody still in his mind, his voice soothing and clear.

When the next morning dawned Gerard awoke to someone climbing onto his bed and snuggling down next to him. He rolled over and slung his arm around Mikey. "Dreams?"

"Dreams," Mikey agreed, shuffling a little closer.

Gerard waited until he could feel Mikey's body relax a little more before asking. "Want to talk about it?"

Mikey shrugged. "Nothing I could see all that clearly, just a grey fog around Frank."

Suddenly chilled, Gerard forced himself to ask the question that stuck in his throat. "Is it Frank that's bad, Mikey?"

When Mikey shook his head against Gerard's arm, he felt like he could breathe again. "No, I don't think so. It's like the fog is trying to get him, take him someplace." Mikey scratched his nose and huffed out a breath. "I'm not even sure how I know it's Frank, anyway, since I couldn't see his face, but I do. It's him."

Gerard frowned. Usually Mikey's dreams were easier to interpret than this. "What do you think it means?"

Mikey looked up at him. "I think you're right, Gerard. I don't think Frank's just a troubadour, but I don't know what else he is, either. And I don't know what the fog is about. It's too..."

"Foggy?" Gerard supplied, and Mikey hit him on the arm. "I'm just saying."

"Fine, yes, it's too foggy. I don't think you're in danger, but see if you can find out anything more about who Frank is, okay?" And with that Mikey snuggled down against the pillow and promptly fell asleep, leaving Gerard awake and alone with his thoughts.

That night when Frank came to Gerard's chambers to play for him, Gerard didn't beat around the bush.

"Was the musician's life always for you? A family tradition, perhaps?" he asked before Frank had started to  play his first song.

Frank's hands stilled on the strings, and he paused for a moment before he looked up at Gerard. "My father had rather different plans for me, in fact."

"Does he not approve of your playing?"

Frank smiled at that, quick and rueful. "You could say that. He doesn't approve of much of anything about me at the moment."

"I'm sorry," Gerard said, the guilt over bringing up what was apparently a sore subject loud in his mind.

Frank shrugged. "Don't be. I like what my life has become, even if I couldn't have predicted it five years ago." He leaned back in his chair, eyes steady on Gerard's face. "And you? Did you dream of being the king as a little boy, or did you dread the day?"

Gerard thought for a moment. "I did not long for the opportunity, certainly. But it is who I am, and I could never have wished it away even had I wanted to. Duty and responsibility only play a small part of that."

A grimace passed over Frank's face, so quickly Gerard half thought he had imagined it. "You are a good king, Your Majesty."

Gerard shook his head. "No. I merely have the potential to be a good king at this point, nothing more. I haven't done enough to earn that praise yet. And my full worth won't be known until I am dead and gone, in any event."

Frank frowned. "You sell yourself short, Gerard. You may not be the king you wish to be yet, but you know what king you want to be, and that's more than most."

His heart beating loudly in his ears, Gerard had missed most of what Frank said. "You called me Gerard."

Blanching, Frank held up a hand. "Forgive me, Your Majesty."

Gerard shook his head. "I will not, Frank, for that is what you should call me. At least while you're in my chambers," he added when Frank looked like he would protest. He flushed slightly when he thought over his last statement, but he did not correct himself.

He wanted to be Gerard to Frank.

After a wary pause, Frank nodded. "I will do my best, Gerard." 

Gerard nodded, satisfied. "Now some music?" he asked hopefully, and Frank's answering laugh was as beautiful as anything else he could do.

Frank could not truly be a court musician if he did not actually play for the court, and that Saturday evening there was a full dinner in the Great Hall, a gathering large and boisterous in an attempt to ignore the biting cold outside.

Gerard didn't particularly enjoy being so far from Frank, but he did love observing the crowd watch Frank and seeing how he satisfied a room. It made him feel proud and proprietary, and he congratulated himself for being willing to share something so precious with his court.

He attempted to chastise himself for such thoughts, for feeling such ownership, but when Frank finished his final song of the evening and looked up to smile right at Gerard, he could not help but smile back and think _mine._

Gerard was selfishly pleased to have Frank to himself again the next night. He had eaten half his dinner by the time Frank arrived, and the wait only increased his anticipation. He looked up from his meal when the door finally opened, a smile breaking across his face when Frank entered his room.

Frank grinned back, and Gerard stood up and made his way around his table to greet him, the folly of this only occurring to him once he was standing in front of Frank with nothing to say. His hands itched to reach out and hug him, pull him in close, but instead he just stood there, mute and staring.

Frank stared back at him, brown eyes huge and beautiful, and after a moment he took a small step closer, their bodies almost touching and swaying towards each other. Gerard breathed in sharply.

Continuing to study Gerard, Frank bit his lower lip and then shrugged a little. "Don't have me executed, that's all I ask."

"What--" Gerard began, but then Frank's hands were on his cheeks and his lips were pressed against Gerard's, soft and sure. Frank pulled back before Gerard could much more than open and close his hands on air, heart racing. 

Gerard stared down at him dumbly, brain not working particularly fast, but when he saw Frank begin to move back his body sprang into action before his mind could catch up. He wrapped his arms around Frank and kissed him this time, capturing Frank's lower lip between his own. Frank froze for a moment before sinking his hands into Gerard's hair. Gerard gasped involuntarily in response, so overwhelmed by the reality of Frank in front of him, by having what he had so long been hoping for right in his arms. Gerard pulled Frank even closer, groaning a little at the feel of Frank's body against his own, and Frank tipped his head back and opened his mouth a little, inviting Gerard in.

Gerard took advantage of the offer, slipping his tongue in and stroking along Frank's, finding his mouth to feel sweet and soft and perfect. It was like nothing Gerard had ever experienced before, sharing himself physically with another person. He felt almost shy in the face of Frank's bravery, his heart beating loud in his ears as Frank caressed his face. Running his hands up and down Frank's back, he began walking Frank back towards his bed for a moment before he caught himself. He attempted to pull away from Frank's mouth but Frank was persistent, following Gerard's movement and biting down on Gerard's lip.

Gasping, Gerard dove back in, clutching Frank to him as he kissed him again and again, head swimming like he'd had too much wine with dinner. With each kiss he grew into his confidence a little more, his need quieting the doubts in his head, anticipation crowding out any other thoughts. Frank broke away from his mouth and Gerard whimpered at the loss until Frank started kissing along his jaw, sucking kisses into his neck and then latching onto his ear.

"God, Frank," he moaned, hands gripping Frank's hips tight against him. He could feel himself growing hard, and he thrust against Frank's hip before he could stop himself. "Sorry! Sorry, I just--"

Frank let go of his earlobe but kept his mouth close. "Don't be sorry, Gerard," he said as he pressed himself more tightly against Gerard's body, and Gerard felt his erection against his thigh. He reached down and grabbed Frank's ass, pulling him into his body, and Frank bit down on his neck below his ear.

"Frank, I--oh god," he babbled as Frank licked over the skin where he had just bitten Gerard, his skin sensitive and electric. Reason intruded for one last moment. "No, but we must discuss this first--"

"If I wanted to get up and leave, would you let me?" Frank interrupted.

Gerard pulled back at that. "Of course I would!" he said, nervous again that he might be taking something not freely offered.

His thoughts were stopped in their tracks when Frank said, "And you are not disinclined yourself?" Gerard could only stare, mouth hanging open at such an idea. Frank smiled at him, face a little shy now. "Well then, talking over," Frank said, dragging Gerard with him towards the bed. Gerard was fairly certain there was more to be said, but it was beyond his power to do anything other than follow Frank and press him down onto his mattress. Frank's hips opened up for him, cradling Gerard's body as he thrust down against Frank's cock, and it was too much and not enough all at once, his need suddenly taking him over.

Gerard tugged them over until they were on their sides, his right hand holding Frank's face close to his own as his left worked to undo the laces of Frank's trousers. Both of Frank's hands were busy on Gerard's pants, struggling to get in under his tunic. Gerard nearly froze in anticipation of Frank touching him skin to skin, unable to believe this was really happening here and now with Frank. 

Grumbling, Frank broke away from Gerard's mouth for a moment. "This is so damned complicated."

"My garments are very complex, it's true," Gerard agreed shakily, already distracted by his own hands on Frank's cock. He looked down at it, admiring the flushed head and the bead of moisture spilling out of the tip, and then he began to stroke. It felt perfect in Gerard's hand, hot and smooth, the skin so soft. 

"Fuck," Frank breathed out, his hands stilling on Gerard's pants for a moment, and Gerard leaned back in and kissed Frank again, tongue exploring tentatively and then with more confidence when Frank opened up for him, mouth lush and giving. His hand started to speed up on Frank, sliding easily over the skin as Frank's leaked more and more, and Frank made a small noise into Gerard's mouth before his hands managed to finally undo Gerard's placard and suddenly both of his hands were on Gerard.

He gasped into Frank's mouth, hand squeezing down on Frank's cock in response, and Frank began stroking him in the same rhythm Gerard set. It was like nothing Gerard had ever felt before, Frank's hands so different and so much more intense than his own had ever been, and Gerard became suddenly aware that he was never going to last, couldn't prevent his climax from overtaking him, riding it as Frank drew him on.

He shuddered through it, spilling into Frank's hands as he gasped against Frank's hot neck. When he finally pulled away, heart pounding, Frank was staring at him, and his hands clutched at Gerard's sides when he began to stroke Frank's cock again. He couldn't take his eyes away from Frank's face, how his tongue flicked out over his lower lip as Gerard moved with his hips snapping up into his hands. Nothing could have prepared him for how beautiful Frank was, for the way he looked at Gerard in this moment. Frank's eyes slipped shut when he came, cheeks flushed and mouth open, and Gerard leaned in to kiss him once more as he stroked him through it. 

Gerard couldn't stop kissing Frank, bringing up his left hand to hold his face closer to Gerard after wiping it off on his bed linens, and Frank seemed just as insatiable, pressing close. Finally he pulled away, resting his forehead against Frank's and still panting, his breath impossible to catch.

Frank was the first to break the silence. "Shall I go now, Your Majesty?"

Gerard shook his head and rolled over onto his back, pulling Frank on top of him. "No. I would like you to lie here with me. If you want to." His arms tightened around Frank momentarily, but he made himself loosen his hold, not wanting to assume. "I want nothing more than for you to stay," he said honestly, revealing himself completely. 

He released a sharp breath when Frank snuggled in close, his head resting against Gerard's chest. "As do I, Gerard."

Gerard swallowed hard and ran a hand through Frank's hair, still trying to convince himself that he wasn't dreaming.

* * *

When Gerard made his way onto the training pitch the following morning, Ray took one look at his face and held up his hand. "I don't want to know, Gerard."

"I wasn't even going to say anything!" Gerard protested.

"Well good, because I don't want to hear it." Ray began to walk with him towards the tents where they would prepare for today's drills. They were silent for approximately five steps.

"The weather promises fair today," Gerard had started to say when Ray interrupted him.

"Just tell me that I don't need to have him killed and that's all I need to know."

Gerard snuck a look at Ray who was determinedly not facing Gerard. "No killing necessary."

"Good." Another three steps, and then: "Do we know anything more about where he comes from?"

Gerard snorted. "You are the absolute worst gossip I have ever met."

"I am not a gossip!" Ray said. "I am merely concerned for my friend's well-being. My friend to whom I happen to have sworn an oath declaring that I will protect him and his kingdom at all costs. I have a right to want to know more."

Gerard patted him on the shoulder. "I am touched, friend, truly. I know of nothing that should give you any cause for concern, but if I do learn of anything in the future, I shall let you know, or Mikey will."

"Excellent." Ray glanced down at him. "But nothing more, you understand."

"I understand perfectly. No details whatsoever about the quality of his mouth--"

" _Gerard!_ " 

The King of Camelot laughed, loud and bright.  

Directly after he and his knights completed their training for the day, Gerard went in search of his brother, ignoring Ryan's pointed hints about the relief a bath would give to tired muscles.

He finally found Mikey in a small room off of the kitchens, sitting cross-legged on the floor at Lady Alicia's feet, cradling a wriggling bundle of _something_ in his arms.

Gerard stopped in the door frame and stared down at him. "Mikey. Is that a--"

Mikey turned his upper body towards Gerard and looked up at him. "Gerard, she was the runt. They were going to kill her. We couldn't let them kill her," Mikey finished, looking over at Alicia, who smiled back at him.

Gerard took a small step further into the room, eyes caught on the tiny puppy squirming in Mikey's arms. "What's her name?"

"Piglet." Mikey smiled down at her, running the very tips of his fingers over her head. "She's my little piggie."

Gerard plopped down next to his brother, hooking his chin over Mikey's shoulder and looking down at Piglet. "Do you know how feed her?"

Mikey nodded. "Lindsey said she'd help us out, too."

"Lindsey knows about caring for a puppy without a mother?"

"Piglet does have a mother now," Alicia said from above. 

Gerard held out his hands in apology. "I just meant a mother who's actually a dog," he said, and Alicia leaned back in her chair, relaxed again.

"Lindsey grew up on a farm," Mikey continued as if Gerard hadn't just inadvertently insulted his intended's ability to raise an abandoned puppy. Mikey let Gerard dig himself out of the holes he created for himself. "So she knows how to take care of all kinds of animals."

Gerard nodded and then pushed against Mikey's shoulder with his cheek. "When is the wedding going to be, by the way? Since you've become parents together first, which is highly shocking," he teased.

Mikey's blush and Alicia's happy laugh were answers enough, but Mikey's mumbled, "We were thinking in the spring," made Gerard's heart clench with happiness.

He kissed Mikey's temple and looked up at his future sister-in-law.

Gerard thought about trying to say something kingly and formal, but in the end he just grinned at her. "I hope you know you're getting the best man in the entire world."

She nodded back at him, watching as Mikey let Piglet gnaw at his fingers, drooling all over. "I really, really do."

When Gerard returned to his chambers after holding Piglet himself for about half an hour, he was startled to find Frank already in his rooms, sitting in his usual spot at the window. “Frank! You’re here early.”

Frank stood up and walked over towards Gerard, hands clasped together in front of him. “Gerard, I--why are you grinning like that?”

Gerard knew he probably looked like a demented gargoyle but he didn’t care. “My brother is getting married, Frank! Married. My little brother. And they already have a Piglet!”

“A piglet?” Frank asked slowly. 

Gerard waved his hand. “Well, it’s really a puppy, but that’s not the point.” He beamed at Frank, his happiness threatening to choke him, and before he could stop himself he strode over to Frank and kissed him, hands coming up to cup his face.

Frank gasped and kissed him back for a moment before pulling away a little, breathing hard and staring up at Gerard. “Yeah, you’re right, talking can wait,” he said as he tugged Gerard back down. 

“Well, we really should have something to eat,” Gerard said even as he followed Frank down to the bed, his legs and arms bracing him up over Frank’s body.

Frank let his head flop down onto the bed. “Do you feel like having dinner right now?” He grinned when Gerard shook his head quickly. “Me neither,” he said, getting his hands in Gerard’s hair and drawing him down to kiss him again. 

Gerard sank down on top of Frank, pressing his body into the mattress. He couldn't believe he got to do this again, that this wasn't something that Frank had only wanted for one night. He dragged his lips over to Frank's ear. "Frank?" he whispered.

"Hmmm?" Frank responded, his hips pushing up against Gerard's and his hands busy running up and down Gerard's thighs. 

"I don't know why you're even here," he said, and Frank froze beneath him. Gerard pulled back to look at his face, puzzled. "Frank?"

"What do you mean?" Frank asked, his face suddenly serious and still. 

Gerard raised his right hand up and tried to gesture meaningfully. "Just, why me? You're beautiful and talented and clever. You could have your choice of people to bed, or maidens to marry, if you wanted."

Frank laughed then, the sound bright and loud in the air, and his body and face relaxed. "Gerard, you must be the only king alive who would sincerely question a person's desire for them." Gerard was about to protest when Frank put his fingers up over his lips. "But I would want you even if you weren't the king. That's just a nice side perk," he said, his lips curled up in a smirk, and Gerard got his hand up against his side and pinched. Frank squirmed and started to giggle. "Hey hey, no fair!"

"That's what you get for talking back to the king, Frank," Gerard said, barely getting the entire sentence out before he started to laugh as well. Frank pulled him down for a quick kiss, and then looked at Gerard seriously again. 

"I have never met anyone like you before, Gerard. I don't go around kissing many random men, and even fewer men of power, but something about you made me think that even if I had completely misinterpreted your interest, you wouldn't hurt me."

"I would never," Gerard said, kissing across Frank's cheek. "Even if I didn't like you so well, I'd never raise a hand against. And I should probably tell you something," he added, tucking his face against Frank's neck. "I haven't really been in the habit of kissing--well, anyone, really. I don't make a game of this."

He waited to see if Frank would laugh at him, or worse yet push Gerard off of him and get out of bed altogether, but Frank merely lifted Gerard's head up and kissed him again, lingering this time. When he finally broke the kiss, he looked at Gerard intently. 

"I promise to be gentle," he said, grin breaking through on the last word, and Gerard growled and leaned down to bite Frank's neck just above the collarbone. 

"I don't," he said, his hands already reaching down to pull Frank's tunic up over his head. "I don't promise to be gentle at all. I want to see every part of you, Frank, and feel you everywhere, and _taste--_ " He bent down and licked a long stripe up Frank's torso, ending at his nipple. He licked it over and bit down, softly at first and then harder when Frank arched against him.

"I think I approve of this plan," Frank said, voice breathy and low. 

Gerard sucked Frank's nipple into his mouth again as his hands worked on the fastenings of Frank's pants. He sighed when his hands gripped Frank's cock again, the shape and feel familiar already. He stroked him a little, giving the head a little twist, his hand already slippery and wet. 

He looked up at Frank. "May I?"

Frank was gazing down at Gerard, his face flushed and soft in the candlelight, and he swallowed and nodded. "Please, Gerard."

Gerard leaned up to kiss him once again, unable to resist, and then he crawled down Frank's body as gracefully as he could manage. Grasping Frank's cock by the base, he stared down at it for a moment before leaning over and taking the first inch or so into his mouth.

He moaned at the feel of Frank against his tongue and between his lips. Frank's arousal had never been so immediate, so overwhelming, and Gerard's eyes fell shut as he slid his lips further down, his mouth full of the taste of him. Drawing back a little to lick over the soft head, he felt Frank jerk against his lips.

Gerard heard Frank gasp above him, and he hummed in response, swirling his tongue around the underside of the head. Frank's hips twitched up, pushing more of his length into Gerard's mouth.

"Sorry, sorry," Frank said from above him, groaning when Gerard lifted away to look up at him.

"Don't apologize, Frank. I'll just keep my hand on the rest of you." He wrapped his right hand around the shaft, leaving just an inch or two for him to suck, and bent his head back down.

This time when Frank thrust up, Gerard was ready and moved with the motion, his right hand tight and firm around Frank's cock. He sucked and licked and drooled all over Frank, his mouth open and wet. When Frank cupped his cheek he pressed against his hand for a moment, the contact intensifying his connection to him.

"Fuck, Gerard," Frank said. "I can't--" He cut off suddenly, and Gerard made what he hoped was an encouraging noise for him to continue when his mouth flooded with come, the taste strong and salty. Yesterday Gerard had been too focused on his own orgasm to notice, but he could feel the come pulsing through Frank's dick as he stroked him through it, a hot wave of pride flooding his chest at the thought that he did that, caused so much pleasure.

Gerard swallowed what he could, the rest spilling over Frank's belly and the sheets. He sat up and wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand, gazing down at Frank, who was still panting, arm thrown over his eyes.

"Was that adequate?" Gerard asked, and Frank lifted his arm up off his face and rose up onto his elbows.

"I guess you could say that," he said, and he rolled his eyes and sat up completely when Gerard beamed back down at him. He kissed Gerard, licking over his lips a little, which made Gerard shiver. "Gerard, that was much more than adequate, trust me."

"I do," Gerard said without thinking, and Frank groaned and pushed Gerard over onto his back, hands busy at his waist. "Hold up, let me, I'll have an easier time of it," Gerard said.

"I'm going to have to learn eventually," Frank said, but he let Gerard manage the laces and push down his trousers until they hit at mid-thigh. He glanced back up at Frank's face, but all of his focus appeared to be on Gerard's cock. 

Gerard stopped trying to talk, or even think, when Frank bent down and took him into his mouth. If Frank's hands were magic, this was celestial, something beyond his comprehension, wet and hot and soft and perfect, and he thrust up, seeking out more.

He gasped and stoked gently through Frank's hair, hoping Frank took it for the apology it was, but Frank followed him back down, taking him deeper still, throat fluttering around his length. Gerard released Frank's hair to grip the sheets, trying to hold on just a little longer, but when Frank began to twist his hand up and down his dick, his mouth following tightly behind, he knew he wouldn't, couldn't last much longer. He gasped up at the ceiling again and again, unable to get enough breath into his lungs, and then when Frank took him all the way down he let out a shout and began to come, hips stuttering through it.

It could have been fifteen seconds or a minute or an hour later when Frank flopped down onto the bed next to him, still licking over his own lips. Gerard pulled Frank to him with his remaining energy, kissing his mouth, cock twitching at the thought that those lips had just been on him. He finally released Frank, hands petting over his bare torso,.

Frank sighed, closing his eyes, and Gerard took the chance to look his fill of him, studying every part of his face. When Frank opened his eyes once more, Gerard started to smile, hesitating when he saw the apprehension in Frank's expression.

"What is it?" he asked.

There was a long pause before Frank spoke. "Gerard, I'm not who you think I am."

Gerard didn't know what to say. Saying "Who do you think I think you are?" felt like a game, but Frank didn't look like he was playing a game. He worked to keep his voice steady and calm. "So who are you, then?"

Frank covered his eyes for a moment, dragging his hand down over his face and mouth.  He looked at Gerard, eyes apologetic and a little afraid. But still he didn't speak.

Strangely, Gerard felt nervous but not frightened, even though he was lying in bed with someone who claimed not to be who he had said he was. Perhaps that was because Frank was just--Frank, in Gerard's mind. He knew all he needed to know. Suddenly a terrible thought occurred to him. "Your name isn't actually Bartholomew or something, is it?"

Frank laughed, pulling his hand away from his mouth. "No, my name is actually Frank. That I've never lied about."

"So then tell me," Gerard said. "I know Frank the troubadour. And you can play music, obviously, so you can't be lying about that. What else is there?"

Frank sighed and pressed the side of his face against the pillow, his eyes closed. "So I had mentioned that my father wasn't very happy about my music."

"Yes, I remember."

"Well, that was only part of the issue. He didn't really care that I loved music--he had an ear for it as well, I think. But that certainly wasn't ever what I was supposed to do." Frank took a deep breath and finally looked at Gerard again. "Gerard, my father's the king of Mercia."

Gerard could only stare at him. "The king? Are you the youngest, then, off finding yourself or something?"

Frank shook his head. "I have no siblings at all."

His mind reeling, Gerard tried to process this. "You're the crown prince of Mercia, yet you live as a wandering troubadour contracted to another king's court?"

The way Frank laughed at that made Gerard's heart ache, the pain there only adding to Gerard's confusion. "Was, Gerard. I _was_ the crown prince. But it's hard to retain that title when your father casts you out."

"Oh, Frank," Gerard said, moving to pull Frank in closer to him. Frank looked at him like he was attempting to pet a hedgehog.

"Gerard, I am a prince without a kingdom."

"Yes, I know, that must be terrible," Gerard said, petting over Frank's hair.

Frank squirmed against him. "I am in another king's bed!"

Gerard stared at him, confused. "I know, Frank."

Frank huffed against his shoulder. "That doesn't--worry you? Make you suspect me of something? Want to throw me out and reveal me to the world?"

Oh. Gerard thought for a moment. "Well, what exactly could you be intending to do? You haven't attempted to kill me, and even if you did you would never be able to claim Camelot from the inside like that." Gerard frowned slightly. "Beyond that, you've just revealed your deep dark secret to me. And thus far you haven't even suggested that I go riding against your father to regain you your future throne. You don't want that, do you?" Frank shook his head mutely. "Well then, it's simply very sad! What father would banish his own _son?_ Especially when that son is you. It's terrible!"

Frank was quiet for a moment, and when he finally did speak it broke Gerard's heart. "It was pretty terrible, I have to say."

When Gerard tugged him closer again, this time Frank allowed it, finally tucking his head up against Gerard's chest. "Why did he do it?"

Frank sighed. "I just--didn't go along with his ideas, the way I used to. He treats the men and women of our kingdom like they're nothing, like all they are, all they can be, are bits of machinery that make him wealthier and give him more power. We've had years of poor harvests, of bandits and thieves that terrorize our people, and he doesn't do a thing for them. Our knights and defenses are for him alone, it seems." He rubbed his nose up against Gerard's collarbone, and Gerard tightened his arms around him. "He's not all bad, but when I stopped biting my tongue and began telling him how I felt, he didn't take kindly to that."

Gerard could sympathize. "My father didn't appreciate it when I spoke out of turn either, but he never came close to disowning me."

Frank pulled back and looked at Gerard, a wry expression across his face. "Did you ever accuse him of being a traitor to his people and a disgrace of a human being in the middle of a council meeting?" He laughed at Gerard's reaction. "I didn't leave him with much of a choice, to be fair. I have something of a temper."

"What did he say?" Gerard couldn't even imagine such a thing. 

"Honestly, I don't remember what he said, just that his face turned a shade of purple I'd never seen before or seen since," Frank said, the words escaping in a half-laugh that didn't sound very funny. "It was an image I tried to keep with me when I rode out of the castle gates that evening."

"He didn't try to follow you?"

Frank shook his head. "I don't think he wanted to know where I went. That was nine months ago, and I haven't seen or heard anything from my people since then." He hesitated for a moment. "I hope he learned something, anything from my behavior, but I'm afraid he just became angry at me and didn't listen to a word of what I was actually saying. But I still want to believe better of him."

Gerard wanted to say something reassuring, but in truth he was having a hard time coming up with anything that wasn't hopelessly pessimistic. "Do you know who is heir to the throne now?"

Frank shrugged. "I assume my uncle and then his sons. They're decent enough men, I suppose." Gerard couldn't help but think that endorsement was hollow. "My uncle and father are quite similar, cold and remote, but I think my father used to be something more. My father never remarried after my mother died falling from her horse when I was nine. I remember him as being different before then, but that could just be the awe of a child talking."

Gerard kissed Frank's forehead, wanting to smooth out the furrow there with his lips. "My mother died in childbirth with Mikey."

"I'm sorry," Frank said quietly.

Gerard nodded in acknowledgment. "It was a difficult pregnancy, from what I remember of it, and her midwife was a witch, a woman she had known since childhood. I wasn't allowed in the room during the birth but I could hear my mother screaming, her midwife trying to soothe her." He swallowed hard. "Mikey just barely survived. He was such a tiny baby, even to me. And the next thing I remember was my nurse telling me that my mother had been killed by magic and my father making me watch her midwife burn in the courtyard." He was quiet for a moment. "Death does bad things to some people."

"So no magic then?" Frank asked.

"No magic for my father, anyway," Gerard said, and Frank nodded but didn't press, which relieved Gerard. Believing that Frank was still a good man didn't extend to trusting him with Mikey's secret, at least not yet. "But he did the best he could, and I think--I hope--that he was changing, that he would have come around on that, in time. Your father may still."

Frank didn't look convinced. "It's possible, but for the time being I think I'd better content myself with my lute and your bed." 

Gerard sincerely doubted a man who was once a future king could be truly happy with such a different life, let alone when that man was Frank, but he selfishly approved of the sound of that. "Well, I am quite content with you in my bed, and you're passably talented at the lute." He laughed when Frank punched him in the arm. "But I would want you in my bed whether you were a troubadour, a goat herder or a king. How you occupy your time outside of it makes little difference to me."

Frank snorted. "I am glad to have your approval." 

Gerard pulled him in for a kiss. "I approve of your everything," he said, suddenly shy, and he ducked his head to kissed Frank's collarbone. "In case that was somehow unclear."

"I had been getting that impression," Frank said lightly. "But you know what I would approve of?"

"What?"

"Sleep, and then some eggs and porridge. Or maybe bread and jam. Or brie."

Gerard laughed. "You tell a king you're an exiled prince and suddenly you think you can demand brie for breakfast. I see how it is."

"A nice sharp cheddar would also be acceptable," Frank told him, and Gerard had to kiss him. "Or some Camembert," he said against Gerard's lips

"I thought you wanted sleep."

"Well, now I'm hungry." Frank's grin lit up his face, and Gerard could only smile back. 

"In the morning I will feed you whatever the kitchens can provide, with my own bare hands, how about that?"

"That sounds acceptable," Frank agreed, allowing Gerard to press close and settle in to sleep.

* * *

When Gerard found Mikey the next day, his brother was holding Piglet in his arms like a baby.

"Have you put her down at all since I saw you last?" he asked. 

Mikey nodded. "Of course I have, when Alicia wanted to hold her. But she's very small, Gerard. She needs our attention."

"Well, I doubt she'll be lacking that," Gerard said wryly. He opened his mouth to speak and then hesitated.

"What is it?"

Gerard ran a hand through his hair. "You haven't had any other dreams about Frank, have you?"

Mikey frowned. "No, why?"

"Well. Did you know that the King of Mercia has a son named Frank?" 

"I knew he had a son, but I don't recall his--" Mikey stopped, his eyes wide and disbelieving, and Gerard flapped his hand around in the air. "He isn't _really._ "

"That's what he claims. And I can't imagine why he would lie if it's the truth. Have you heard anything about his son being exiled or anything like that?"

Mikey nodded slowly. "Something about that rings a bell, but Gerard. How does a prince know how to play the lute? Or sing?"

Gerard shook his head. "I don't know! But his story definitely seemed convincing."

Mikey smirked. "I'm sure it did."

"I didn't mean it like that!" 

Mikey laughed. "Well, you keep confirming his story in your own way, and I'll do my own research. And I'll let you know if I dream anything, I promise," he added when Gerard frowned at him. 

"Okay," Gerard said. That would be a start. 

The following evening was another full court dinner, and Gerard watched Frank for almost the entire meal, as was his custom. However, this time he was studying something new, in addition to tracing over the curve of his lips and noting the way the light caught his eyes. He could see, now that he knew to look for it, that there was a level of comfort, of familiarity, with the customs and the formality of the room that would very impressive indeed for a mere troubadour to have acquired. Gerard wondered at himself that he hadn't recognized it before.

"Did you know?" he asked Mikey, buttering a roll and shoving it all into his mouth at once.

"Did I know what?" 

Gerard waved his hand expressively while he attempted to swallow the bread. "Did you know that he was more than just a musician?"

Mikey looked over at Frank for a moment and then turned back to Gerard. "I think one would have needed to have spent a good deal of time watching him to have noticed his carriage rather than his playing. That, more than your blindness to anything odd about him, was his disguise, Gerard. You don't expect to see a crown prince strum or sing like that."

Gerard nodded, conceding the point. It wasn't that he distrusted Frank, or was having second thoughts about his intentions, or anything like that. But if one such deception had occurred, it was not impossible that another one just as significant might yet happen, from a different source.

Or might have already. And Gerard was not so naive about the world to think that the consequences would all be as benign as Frank.

When Frank completed his final song of the evening, Gerard started the applause, beaming when Frank smiled back at him, face a little pink. He came over to Gerard's table afterwards, his lute still held tightly in his hands. 

"Frank, have a seat up here," Gerard said, gesturing to the servants to set another place. When he turned back to Frank he was watching him, a strange expression on his face. "What?"

Frank quirked his head a little. "Surely you can't be expecting me to sit up here with you?"

Gerard frowned at him. "Of course! There's no reason why you shouldn't."

"Ger--Your Majesty, it is inappropriate for a troubadour to be at this table."

Gerard felt lost at sea. "Yes, which might be scandalous indeed if that were in fact what I was doing, but I see no mere troubadour in front of me."

Frank's face fell. "I cannot sit here as the person you think I should be."

Gerard didn't lose his temper easily, but it was threatening to come to a boil. "Frank, this really doesn't need to be so difficult."

"I cannot believe--"

Mikey interrupted him. "Frank, what I believe my brother is clumsily attempting to say is that as his favorite, your presence at his table is neither unusual nor particularly scandalous. Do sit down." He took a bite of his potato. "The entire meal will be cold by the time you eat any of it if you keep arguing like this."

Frank stared at him. "His favorite?"

Gerard smiled timidly at him. "Yes, of course, Frank. Why else would you--" He stopped short. "Frank! You didn't actually think that I would ask you up here in your other capacity."

Frank flushed, looking down at his feet. "Apparently I did."

Gerard reached over and touched his arm. "If and when that title is regained, I certainly shall," he said softly, his words only for Frank's ears. "But for now, I would have you sit with me just as Frank." 

Frank stared back at him, his presence now awkward and stilted, none of his earlier confidence still evident. Gerard was sorry and embarrassed he had been the cause of this, in public no less, when all he had wanted was Frank to know how much he valued his company, even after yesterday’s revelation. But he had no idea what to say to smooth it over. 

Luckily, his future sister wasn’t one to let such a situation continue; though she had only been dining with them at the head table since the engagement became official, she was already quite comfortable participating. “Frank, sit down before Gerard decides to host an entire tournament just to demonstrate to you his skills and prowess. It’s entertaining, to be sure, but it’s damned exhausting.” Alicia took a big gulp of her wine and then bent down next to her chair. When she sat back up, she was holding Piglet. “Have you met the newest addition to the family?”

The speed at which Frank came around the table and sat down in the chair between Gerard and Alicia was impressive. “Who’s this precious princess?” Frank cooed, holding out his hand for her to smell. 

“Her name’s Piglet,” Mikey said with no small amount of pride. 

Frank looked over at Gerard, eyes wide. “You didn’t tell me how adorable she was!”

“I said she was a puppy! All puppies are cute,” Gerard protested, marveling at how Piglet had taken over Frank's attention completely.

“Yes, but not every puppy is as cute as this girl right here. Can I feed her?” Frank asked, turning back to Alicia. “I had dogs back--back where I used to live, so I know how to manage them.”

“Sure,” Alicia said, picking her up and depositing her gently on Frank’s lap. She didn’t look all that hungry, settling easily on Frank’s legs, but Frank tried to tempt her anyway, offering lamb and then a bit of beef. 

“Maybe if she saw you eating, she’d be more likely to do so herself,” Gerard suggested. Frank rolled his eyes a bit at this ploy but grabbed a hunk of bread and took a bite anyway, so Gerard still felt like he won.

Between feeding the dog and then himself when he remembered, it looked like Frank got something of a full meal by the time Alicia took back Piglet, wrapping her in a blanket to keep her warm. The castle was terribly drafty, the tapestries doing only so much to insulate them from the cold stone of the walls, and the Great Hall never felt warm enough during the winter. The roaring fire at one end did what it could, but Gerard’s hands were always freezing by the end of the evening. 

He touched Frank’s hand with his, grinning a little when Frank pulled away from him immediately. “I don’t know how you can even play in here when it’s so cold.”

Frank shrugged, a small smile on his face. “Professional skill, I suppose.” He laughed when Gerard crooked an eyebrow at him. “Well, I am wearing many layers of wool, I must confess.”

“Cheating! I see how it is,” Gerard said. 

“You could put personal comfort above appearance, you know,” Frank said, laughing at him. 

Gerard shook his head. “Absolutely not! I am a monarch, I have standards to live up to.” Frank’s face fell a bit at those words, and Gerard wanted to smack himself and then apologize, though he feared that neither would help. “My rooms are thankfully quite a bit warmer.”

“Are they?” Frank asked. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Perhaps you would like to come find out for yourself?” Gerard inquired. He could hear Mikey’s cough on the other side of Frank, but he refused to look at him. He knew perfectly well how ridiculous he sounded. But as long as Frank didn’t find him too ridiculous, he didn’t really care. 

Thankfully, Frank laughed and then nodded. “Nothing would make me happier, Your Majesty.” He prepared to push his seat out from the table and then stopped. “Actually, I take that back! How is it that I’m your favorite, and yet all I’ve gotten so far is a seat at this table and a few nights in your room? You never take me anywhere,” he said earnestly to Gerard, whose face was suddenly so hot he could warm his hands on them, he was pretty sure. 

“I didn’t know you wanted to go someplace!” he protested.

“Gerard,” Mikey said in a monotone that still managed to convey disappointment. “It’s best to anticipate and not simply wait to be told what to do. Like with hunting. Or fighting. Or anything at all, really.”

“Listen to your brother, Gerard,” Frank said. “I mean, Alicia has a puppy. A _puppy,_ Gerard.”

“Do you want a puppy?” Gerard asked hopefully. “Because I am sure I can find you one.” 

“Yes,” Frank said decisively. “But not right now. Maybe in the spring. Once I have settled in more and you’ve wooed me properly.”

“Puppies are a proper wooing technique!”

“They are, but not when it’s what your brother’s just done. I require creativity, Gerard. I am an artistic soul.”

“I have good ideas, too,” Gerard grumbled. “If it’s wooing you want, you’ll get it. It may be winter, and cold, and disgusting and terrible outside, with no flowers to be found anywhere, but if you want romance, watch out.”

“I look forward to seeing this,” Frank said cheerfully. “And I believe I might have just a bit more brie before we retire tonight.”

Gerard feared it might be awkward between them when they returned to his rooms later that evening. But Frank smiled up at him after they closed the door to the hall, face open and bright, and when Gerard pulled him in close for a kiss it felt as easy and natural as ever. Their clothes came off quickly, the tumble into the bed just as fast, and sleep took them mere seconds after they stroked each other to completion, panting into each other's mouths.

The next morning arrived too quickly, bright sun shimmering in that way that made clear how brutally cold it must be outside. Frank snuggled closer to Gerard's chest and pulled the blankets back up every time Gerard attempted to push them down to get out of bed.

"Frank," Gerard protested, "I have to get up. I have things to do. Kingly things." His words sounded weak even to him.

"Okay," Frank agreed, not moving. "So in another five minutes, then."

Gerard huffed against the bare skin of Frank's shoulder. "If I don't get up soon I won't have enough time to fulfill my duties and arrange for your surprise tonight."

Frank lifted his head at that, looking at Gerard. "What surprise?"

"If I told you it wouldn't be much of a surprise," Gerard said, nudging Frank with his nose. "Now will you let me up?"

Frank sighed. "I suppose if I must."

Gerard kissed him softly before finally slipping out of the bed, leaving Frank nestled in the quilts and furs and down pillows. "You can stay for as long as you want, though."

Frank hugged his pillow to his chest and rested his head up on his arms, looking content and warm, face pink. "I was counting on it," he said drowsily.

Gerard went through his day in a fog, relying on instinct and reflexes alone to survive his training exercises. He could feel Ray watching him, and while he took some comfort in the knowledge that his complete attention wasn't required to best all who he sparred with that day, he knew that tomorrow would require his full attention again.

He figured that even the king could afford to have one day of distraction. Ray even clapped him on the shoulder after Ryan had helped him out of his chainmail.

"At least I know now that being love-sick won't get you killed on the battlefield," he said.

Gerard grinned up at him. "You sure you don't want to hear what makes Frank so special?"

Ray turned on his heel and walked off, calling out "Nope!" over his shoulder.

By the afternoon Gerard had given up on getting anything else done with his day, postponing a meeting with his tax advisors until the following fortnight. During the winter there was only so much that needed to be managed in the treasury, and Gerard was relatively sure he could afford the wait. Perhaps in two weeks' time he would actually be able to focus on something other than Frank's eyes again.

When Frank knocked on his door at half past six, Gerard had been waiting for him for almost an hour, perfecting every last thing. "Come in!"

Frank came in, immediately looking around the room.  His eyes grew huge when he saw the set-up in front of the fireplace on the far wall of the room. 

"Gerard, what's this?" Frank asked, walking up to where there were pillows and blankets and furs piled up on the stone floor over the carpet. Between this little nest and the fireplace was a large cloth covered in plates of food, five kinds of cheeses and honey and preserves that Gerard had acquired from the kitchens by telling them it was for Frank.

"Well, it will be too cold for a proper picnic for many months still," Gerard began, unexpectedly nervous. "But I thought we could have one inside, if you'd like."

Frank's eyes were shining, the light from the fire catching on the hazel accents, and he walked past Gerard and sat down in the middle of it all. "Well? Are you going to join me for our dinner?"

Gerard smiled and settled down across from him. He found he couldn't quite eat anything yet. "This isn't the only part of the evening. I mean, I hope that you'll enjoy the cheese and all, but I wanted to give you something more." Gerard took a deep breath and forced himself to look back at Frank, who was studying his face intently. "I can't play like you can, can't weave a story out of music and make people feel everything through it, but I can tell a story in my own way."

"You're a wonderful storyteller, Gerard," Frank agreed, his head cocked a little to the side.

Gerard smiled. "Well, I'm fond of my own voice, I know. But I mean a story unlike those that I've told before. My tutors used to despair of me--they couldn't get me to focus on my figures, or grain production, or any number of things a king needs to know. But one day they happened upon the method, for me. They realized that if it was a story about people, I couldn't help but absorb it. And so suddenly all of my calculations had people attached to them, and I still didn't _like_ learning about them, but I did.

"The lessons stuck with me, and now I'm not an ignorant leader. But even more than that, the actual stories I heard have never left me." He looked down at his hands for a moment, trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach. "And I thought I might share one with you tonight. May I tell you a story, Frank?"

Frank nodded, and he wrapped his arms around his knees, clasping one wrist in the other hand while he waited.

And so Gerard began.

As he said the first words his nerves left him, the story taking over the storyteller completely. Gerard let the words pour out of him, the poetry singing through the room, his voice rising and falling with the action, emotion shading every syllable. He was trained in this as well, of course; a king needed to be able to motivate his people, lead his knights through speeches and instructions. But this was something different altogether, a deeper purpose.

Throughout his whole tale Frank's eyes never left his face, his mouth open and relaxed as he followed Gerard through the hero's quest and held his hand during the journey. Frank gasped when things went badly, laughed when there was a brief moment of levity, and his breath became labored with emotion when all seemed lost. Gerard wasn't just telling a story for anyone; he was sharing it with Frank, someone who knew what it was to tell a story like this, and also knew what it was to lose one thing and gain something new.

After the hero finally achieved glory and redemption, Gerard's voice ringing out with triumph and finality, there was an echoing silence in the room. He waited for Frank to say something, watching his chest expand with each breath, but it was some time before Frank spoke.

"Your voice could change history, Gerard," he said, voice hoarse and thick with emotion.

Gerard flushed and shook his head. "Thank you, but I hardly think that the epics of the past will tell the future."

Frank's eyes flashed, and he reached forward and gripped Gerard's arm. "Do not doubt your own power. You may not be a single man on a solitary journey, but you know what you can do, and what needs to be done. And you have the vision to make it happen." He cupped Gerard's cheek with his palm. "Don't give it up."

Gerard could only nod. "I won't. I promise."

Frank smiled then, the determination melting into a simpler happiness. "Good. Because that was not the story of a singer, or a poet. That was the story of a king."

Gerard closed his eyes at that, overcome with Frank's incomprehensible faith in him. When he opened them again, Frank had moved even closer, and Gerard gave in and kissed him there, pressing him down and holding him close.

The cheese could wait.

* * *

Gerard was wrapped around Frank one morning, still half asleep, when he heard the door open. A few seconds later the bed dipped behind him, and he disentangled himself from a grumpy Frank to turn towards Mikey.

"Hey," he whispered, trying not to disturb Frank if possible. "Bad night?"

Mikey just nodded.

"Hi Mikey," Frank said from the other side of him.

Mikey raised a hand in greeting. Gerard turned back to Frank, not sure what to say.

Luckily Frank was willing to let the brothers keep their secrets. "Gerard, I'm going to prepare for the day. See you later?"

Gerard nodded, and Frank smiled back at him and gave him a quick kiss before getting out of the bed.

"Bye, Frank," Mikey said softly, and Frank gave him a small wave before making his way out of the room, closing the door gently behind him.

Gerard turned back to his brother and tried to clear the sleep from his brain. "What's wrong?"

Mikey shook his head. "I can't see it."

"But it's something?"

"Yes." No hesitation or uncertainty in his voice.

Gerard shuffled closer to Mikey, rubbing his back soothingly. "What do you remember?"

Mikey sighed. "There's a figure, and it's someone we think we know, but we don't. It's almost like they're masked, but I can never get close enough to tell. I just spend all night chasing after something, and when I wake up I don't want to know anything at all."

Gerard clucks his tongue at him, afraid to ask his next question but needing to anyway. "The masked figure isn't Frank, is it?"

Mikey shook his head and Gerard was a little ashamed at how relieved he felt, given how distressed Mikey appeared. "No. He's there as well, but he's definitely--just Frank. I'm worried about him, though."

Gerard frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I think they're going after him."

He didn't understand. "But no one here even knows who he is. Why would someone in Camelot attack Frank?"

"Well, even if they don't know he's an exiled prince, people know he's important to you," Mikey pointed out. "But I don't think that's it. And believe me, if I thought I knew why, I would tell you." He yawned, and Gerard could see how deep the circles went under his eyes, the exhaustion burned into his skin. "All I want to do is sleep, and yet I spend all day and night trying not to."

"Can Grant make something to help you sleep? Or Lindsey, perhaps?"

Mikey looked at him, eyes haunted. "I can't risk not seeing this, Gerard. Not again." And Gerard knew better than to argue.

He drew Mikey closer to him, kissing the top of his head. "We'll figure it out, Mikey. Promise."

Gerard couldn't stop thinking about the strain he had seen on his brother's face. He knew that Mikey wouldn't take anything that would make the visions stop altogether, but perhaps there was something that would allow him to actually rest his body, even if his mind was still uneasy. He made his way down to the healing rooms near the kitchens, the scent of herbs and roots and oils thick in the air.

"Lindsey?" he called out as he walked towards the smaller workspace carved out of what looked like an old cupboard at the back of the main room. She stuck her head out and smiled at him.

"Hi, Gerard. Wasn't expecting to see you any time soon." Lindsey was one of the only people who actually listened when Gerard said to not bother using his title if they were in private, and he had forgotten how much it relaxed him. He could just be Gerard, Concerned Older Brother rather than His Royal Highness King Arthur. "Shoulder acting up again?"

He shook his head even as he rubbed over his right arm, the one injury he sustained in the battle that took his father's life. "So far so good. The exercises and liniment seem to be doing their job. No, I actually wanted to talk to you about Mikey."

Lindsey looked up, giving Gerard her full attention. "Is he hurt? Where is he?"

Gerard coughed. "He's not injured. And he doesn't exactly know that I'm here, but he's been having a lot of trouble sleeping and I wanted to know if you had anything--special, to help him get more rest."

"Special how?" Lindsey leaned back against her work table, crossing her arms over her chest. Gerard was probably imagining the skeptical look on her face, the one that said _I know there's more to this that you're not telling me, Gerard._ He was being paranoid. People didn't just recognize Seers.

"He's getting enough sleep, but it's leaving him exhausted. And when he's taken sleeping draughts in the past, they made him groggy and disoriented."

"Probably mess up his dreams, too," Lindsey said. Gerard tried not to startle, but from the look on her face he was pretty sure he failed. "Dreams are important, Gerard. They let us process our days and prepare for the next. You don't have to be a believer in the power of dreams to tell us our desires to know they're important."

Gerard kept his gaze steady on hers. He liked Lindsey, had never had any reason to suspect anything might be off about her, and he didn't want to become needlessly paranoid. And he knew that he had opened himself up to this by even talking about Mikey's trouble sleeping with someone else. His anxiety was outdated and out of proportion in any event, given that there was no law higher than his own that would hurt or threaten Mikey's life, regardless of his abilities. But he didn't want anyone looking at Mikey differently, whispering that he didn't merely see evil, he caused it.

It was a very large castle. Accidents were unavoidable. And Gerard couldn't be everywhere at once.  

However, if left in his current state, Mikey was going to become truly ill. Gerard took a small risk. "I was hoping you might have something that would produce as close to normal sleep as possible without disturbing his dreams, yes. Something that would reduce the tension I see in him now."

Lindsey nodded. "I've been working on a couple of new infusions. I think one of them may be a good possibility for this. I'll let you know as soon as I've developed it further."

Gerard exhaled heavily, his relief overwhelming. "Thank you, Lindsey." He turned away to peer out of Lindsey's workroom at the sound of the outer doors opening. 

"Gerard!" Frank stood across the room from him, standing next to Grant and holding a small brown cloth packet. "Is everything okay?"

Gerard smiled at him. "I'm fine, just checking on something for Mikey." He walked over to Frank and brushed over his cheek with his hand. "You?"

Frank nodded, his skin soft and smooth against his hand. "Just a preventative infusion. My lungs don't like the cold so I asked Grant to prepare something for me. I want to see if I can avoid my annual cough."

Gerard gave into the temptation and leaned forward to kiss Frank. He wasn't about to hide this in front of those he trusted. If he had to deal with the stress and the bullshit of being a king, he was going to embrace what limited freedoms it did give him. "I would like to see you avoid that, too. Thank you, Grant," he added.

Grant made a little half-bow, a wry grin tugging up one corner of his mouth. "It was my pleasure, Gerard."

Three nights later Frank was in the middle of performing one of Gerard's favorite pieces in the Great Hall when he suddenly stumbled mid-verse. He caught himself quickly and continued on, but Gerard turned to see what had caught Frank's attention and saw a tall man standing in the front entrance to the hall. He studied him as Frank completed the song, unable to discern what had startled Frank so. 

He had his answer soon. "Michael!" Frank called out after the applause had died down, placing his lute carefully on his stool before striding up to the newcomer. The stranger-- _Michael_ \--wrapped his arms around Frank's waist, lifting his feet off the ground and swinging him from side to side in a bear hug.

Gerard wasn't jealous. He wasn't, couldn't be, given the way Frank sought out his eyes as soon as he released his friend and brought him over to the head table. But he couldn't deny even to himself that he was disconcerted, to say the least.

"Your Majesty, may I present my old friend Michael Pedicone of Mercia. Michael, this is His Royal Highness, King Arthur." It felt odd to hear his title stated by Frank that way, and Gerard wished that he could call him Gerard for all the court to hear, and especially this newcomer.

Michael bowed low, perfectly respectful and proper, and Gerard had a moment of feeling ashamed of his instinctive suspicion. He resolved to make up for it, even if he was the only one aware of his feelings. "Welcome to Camelot," he said formally, holding his arms out and gesturing at the room. Once Michael had stood up fully, he came out from around the table and grasped his arm in a more casual greeting. "Any friend of Frank is a friend of ours. What brings you to our court?"

Michael smiled back at him and cuffed the top of Frank's head. "I missed my friend! I wanted to catch up and see how he was, out in the world."

"How did you even know where I was?" Frank asked, his eyes happy and body relaxed.

Michael laughed. "When I heard that there was a remarkably talented--and small--troubadour wintering with King Arthur's court, I figured there couldn't be two of you wandering around." He grinned even wider when Frank stuck his tongue out at him.

"Frank has only improved the quality of our winter court," Gerard said, catching Frank's eye and blushing a bit at the fondness he saw there.

"I'm not surprised at Frank's positive influence," Michael said, his easy tone buffering the curiosity on his face. 

"There are few troubadours as talented or impressive, regardless of their background," Gerard said, his voice deliberately casual. He watched as Michael blinked and tried to school his features at Gerard's implication. Apparently he hadn't expected Gerard to know that Frank was more than he seemed.

Frank touched Gerard's arm. "Michael isn't someone who judges people, either. Perhaps I should return to my music, though?"

Gerard nodded. "Would our guest like to make a request?"

Frank looked back at Michael, who smiled again, his manner easy and confident once more. "I think you know which one I want to hear." Frank grinned at him and practically ran to his stool, getting his lute back in his lap and tuning quickly.

"This is a tale about the adventures of two young men, and it's dedicated to someone who may have something in common with one of the men in question," he said before launching into a song that happened to be a favorite of Gerard's as well.

Later that night when Frank was back in Gerard's room, his body warm and snug up against his own, Gerard finally allowed himself to ask the question that had been buzzing around his brain for hours.

"Why do you think Michael is here?"

Frank shrugged. "Don't know. I won't let myself hope he's here to make an overture on behalf of my father, but I'd be lying if I said it hadn't occurred to me."

Gerard was quiet for a moment. "What could make you return?"

Frank pulled back from him enough to look Gerard in the eyes. "More than just gossip from a childhood friend that my father forgave me." He paused, biting his lip, and Gerard stilled his tongue and waited. "Nothing less than an official missive from my father would tempt me to return."

"But Michael coming here could suggest he's moving in that direction."

Frank closed his eyes. "It might. It might also mean that Michael wanted to go off on an adventure and visit an old friend. I'm not going to presume more than that. Besides," he continued, mouth twisting up into a smirk, "even if it's just a social call it's one I can appreciate. Michael is always a good addition to a room."

Gerard nodded and pulled Frank in closer. "A friend of yours is a friend of mine, truly."

Frank kissed his neck. "Thank you."

Michael was given rooms near Frank's. He was a pleasant dining companion, both an entertaining conversationalist and a good listener, focused and intelligent. Gerard became accustomed to finding Michael engaged in laughter or discussion with Ray, Mikey and Alicia as though he were no stranger to Camelot, but a trusted friend.

After a fortnight of his company, Gerard's curiosity about why he had come faded into the background, so easily did he join the court. It began to feel as though he and Frank had both been a part of Gerard's life for much longer, and Gerard refused to think about a future when one (or both) of them might no longer be in Camelot.

* * *

Gerard was on his way back up to the castle after an early morning training when Mikey called out his name. "Hey, Gee!"

He turned around and smiled at his brother, face falling a little at his expression. "What is it?"

"Lindsey came to drop off an infusion she said you requested for me," Mikey said, his face stony. 

His heart sinking, Gerard held out a hand. "Mikey, I was just trying to help, really."

Mikey rolled his eyes. "Gerard, I'm not mad. Just, you could have actually told me about your grand plan before speaking with her."

Gerard nodded. "I know. I should have spoken with you first. But I'm worried, Mikes. I can't help it."

Mikey bumped his shoulder as they walked along the path together. "Well, Lindsey said it should help me get more rest but won't disturb my dreams, and if it works, that would be a lot. We'll see."

Gerard was able to stop himself from asking Mikey every morning how he slept, but after a week it became clear enough just from the diminishing circles under Mikey's eyes that the infusion was working. Such an improvement required a trip down to the healing rooms, where he waited for Lindsey. 

"Hi, Gerard." She brushed past him, a small smile on her face.

He decided to forgo all formalities. "Thank you. It's only been seven days but it's already made a huge difference for him. Grant spoke well of you in the past, but I've been most pleased to see for myself the extent of your skill and art."

Lindsey's face pinked a little. "So Mikey's been pleased with the effects?"

Gerard nodded, more relaxed than he had been in weeks. "He definitely has more energy, and he just looks more like himself. It's quite remarkable."

Lindsey leaned over and kissed Gerard on the cheek. "I am very glad to hear it," she said, pulling away and patting Gerard on the shoulder.

Unfortunately, Frank hadn't been doing as well. The annual cough he had been dreading soon settled in, and Gerard became accustomed to holding Frank tight against his chest in their bed, sitting up a little to help him breathe.

Frank waved him off when Gerard expressed concern. "I told you, Gerard, this happens almost every winter. It'll pass." But while one week and then another did pass, the cough lingered, and Frank began to lose weight he didn't really have to spare.

"Frank, I really think you need to see Grant again," Gerard said finally one evening, holding Frank's head still and kissing him on the lips when Frank tried to shake his head no.

"Gerard, you shouldn't be kissing me!"

"If it was merely a cough as you insist, then that shouldn't be too big a risk to take. Besides, you've been next to me in bed for many weeks now," Gerard said pragmatically. "If I was going to fall ill, I would have by now." He kept his voice steady with some effort, sure that if Frank could see the depth of his concern he would never let Gerard know how he was really feeling.

"Fine," Frank grumbled, and Gerard held him close, trying not to let the wheeze in Frank's lungs panic him too much. There was a reason these sorts of winter illnesses were feared, and Gerard had spent much of the past fortnight reminding himself that his court physicians were second to none, and that if anyone could help Frank, it would be them.

The expression on Grant's face when they visited him the following morning did little to reassure Gerard, however. Grant felt over Frank's neck, looked at his eyes and in his mouth, and thumped on his back and chest. The frown seemed to deepen in his forehead with every new test.

"What," Gerard asked finally, unable to keep his mouth shut. "What is it?"

Grant shook his head. "I don't know, Gerard. I've never seen something that lingers like this, that just--stays and doesn't respond to anything. Frank, are you still taking the infusion?" When Frank nodded, Grant's frown somehow deepened even further. "Even if that didn't prevent this from taking hold in the first place, it should be helping by now. I don't understand it at all."

"Is there anything else he should be doing?" Gerard asked, running his hands through Frank's hair. Frank dropped his head against Gerard's chest, the rattle in his chest audible. Frank had already sweated through his shirt in the short amount of time he had been out of bed. Gerard clutched Frank to him tightly, running a hand through his damp hair.

Grant busied himself at his work table. "Hot baths, as many as he can stand taking--the steam should help him breathe. Warm broths and bread. And anything that helps him rest, he needs it."

Gerard nodded. All of that, he could provide.

"Here we are." Grant walked back over to them and held out a new vial. "Frank, I want you to take this with your morning meal and then at night before you go to bed, all right? Not more often than that."

Frank nodded and started to cough again. "I will, Grant."

Gerard bustled him back up to bed, tucking him in and then leaving almost immediately to call for a servant to draw a bath. He ran into Michael in the hall.

"Your Majesty, is everything all right?"

"Frank's ill, I need buckets to heat water," Gerard answered quickly, attempting to move past him. Michael stepped in front of him.

"Let me call for someone, you should be with Frank." Gerard nodded his thanks and headed back to his rooms.

Gerard sat by Frank's side and watched as Michael and three servants carried in buckets of hot water; the bath was prepared and waiting for Frank in half an hour. Michael wished Frank well before leaving them alone, and then Gerard got Frank undressed and into the heat of the bath.

"Have you taken Grant's new medicine?" he murmured, helping Frank tip his head back so he could wash his hair.

Frank waited until Gerard was finished pouring water over his head to nod. "Not yet, but I will as soon as I'm done with my bath. Thank you, Gerard," he said, smiling. Gerard was pleased to hear that his voice sounded a little stronger. He resolved to have a bath drawn for Frank at least once a day, perhaps even twice, just so Frank could sound like himself again.

It took even more effort to get Frank out of the bath and into bed again, the heat having made Frank pliant and relaxed, and Gerard fell asleep wrapped around Frank, hopeful for the morning.

When he awoke just before dawn, it was to Frank gasping for breath between hacking coughs.

"Frank!" Gerard pulled him to sit upright. "Come on, Frank, just breathe for me, in and out. You can do it," he chanted. Finally Frank settled down and was able to drop once more into an exhausted sleep.

Gerard stayed like that for several hours more, refusing to move until Frank stirred again. He would not disturb his sleep if he could possibly help it. When there was a knock on the door it was already well into the morning, but he still had to bite back his irritation when someone pushed it open.

"Gerard?" Ray called out quietly, and Gerard realized that he was over an hour late to his training. He waved Ray into the room, and Ray closed the door behind him. "What happened?"

Gerard kissed Frank's forehead, brushing his hair back a little. "He's getting worse, Ray."

Ray furrowed his brow. "What did Grant say?'

Gerard shrugged helplessly, shushing Frank when the movement made him stir. "He doesn't know what's wrong. I had thought Frank was improving last night, but now he's gotten even worse." He shook his head. "That reminds me though, I should really wake him to take more of the medicine."

Frank grumbled at being awoken, and his lack of engagement concerned Gerard greatly. He just opened his mouth for the spoon of liquid and collapsed back almost in the same breath, twitching against the pillow. The sheets and his sleeping shirt were almost soaked through with sweat. Gerard didn't know whether he should call in a maid to change out the linens or just let Frank get what sleep he could.

He didn't know what to do at all.

When he looked up at Ray, he could see his own worry echoed on his friend's face, with an additional emotion that made Gerard defensive and surly.

"I'm not casting him out, Ray." Gerard tucked himself closer to Frank, unsnarling knots in his lank hair.

"I would never suggest such a thing to you," Ray replied quietly. "Gerard. You know me better than that."

Gerard nodded, eyes focused down on the way Frank's belly rose and fell with each breath. How hard such a simple act seemed to be.

"I think, though, that you might want to consider that Frank might be able to sleep better if he's the only person in the bed." Ray rested his hand on Gerard's shoulder. "It might be better for both of you."

Gerard shook his head. "I can't be away from him, Ray. Even the other side of the room seems too far."

Ray squeezed Gerard's shoulder. "Okay, Gerard."

Frank worsened as the day went on, even the hot bath not doing much of anything for his breathing or awareness. He slept fitfully that night, never truly awakening the following morning, lost in delirium. He moaned on the rare occasions Gerard did get up and seemed to calm when Gerard took his place next to him on the bed again. It was the only indication Frank gave that he was aware of Gerard's presence.

By nightfall Gerard sent for Grant, who examined Frank for only a few minutes before pulling away, shaking his head.

"What?" Gerard asked, dreading what Grant might have to tell him. "What is it?"

Grant's expression was grave. "Your Majesty, I truly don't know. I've never seen something like this develop out of what looked to be a typical fever." Grant dropped his hand to Frank's forehead. Frank twitched away from the touch. "I'm afraid I don't know what to do for him."

Gerard could only look at him. "So that's it? We just wait for him--"

"We wait, and we see, and we care for him until he recovers," Grant interrupted him. "That is what we do."

Gerard nodded, resigned. "Thank you, Grant. I will stay awake with him tonight."

Gerard underestimated his own exhaustion, however, and he couldn't help drifting off just before dawn. He awoke what felt like moments later to someone violently shaking him.

"Gerard, you have to wake up. Gerard!"

"Mikey?" Gerard dragged himself up, looking down for just a moment to see Frank breathe, reassure himself once more before focusing on his brother.

"I had a dream, Gerard."

Suddenly he was wide awake. "Mikey, what is it?" he asked, grabbing his brother's arm. “What did you see?”

“Frank’s not sick, Gerard. He’s being poisoned.”

Gerard's entire body burned at the words, the rage building bright and hot in his belly. "What do you mean," he said slowly, forcing himself to keep his voice calm to avoid waking Frank.

"It's not natural, what's happening to him. I could see him caught up in the middle of storm, being tossed to and fro, but it wasn't him. Someone is doing this to him," Mikey whispered. 

"Can you see who?"

Mikey shook his head. "It's not clear, and every time I would try to get close enough to Frank the storm would toss me off. Eventually I woke up." Mikey was shivering against Gerard, and he tried to calm himself enough to comfort his brother. It was hard when all he wanted to do was somehow challenge the poison to a duel, battle it back with iron and a slice to the jugular.

But that couldn't be the solution today. "All right, Mikey. Thank you for telling me." Gerard tried to think but it was difficult when the walls seemed like they were closing in on him. Someone in his castle, in his home, had dared to attack Frank. They had done so knowing who Frank was to Gerard and what it would mean to be caught. "Who could have such a death wish?"

Mikey pulled away a little from Gerard and blinked up at him. "I don't know, Gerard. And why attack him rather than you? It wouldn't be too hard to go after you directly instead."

"It doesn't make any sense. And I hate to think that this was done by someone we know," Gerard said miserably. He frowned at himself. There would be time later to chastise himself for failing to see the evil intentions of someone around him. "Do you think that Grant should see him again, now that we know it's poison and not merely an illness?"

Mikey shook his head slowly, biting his lip. "I don't think Grant should be allowed to see him at all, Gerard." He shrugged uncomfortably when Gerard stared at him. "Frank wasn't sick like this before Grant started to give him that infusion, was he?"

"Mikey, you don't actually think--"

"I don't know, Gerard," Mikey cut him off. "But the only people I trust completely in this castle right now are you, Alicia and Ray. Everyone else though, I don't want to think it of them, but it's got to be someone in the castle."

Gerard nodded, his heart breaking a little. "You're right, Mikey. But we have to trust someone who can actually do something for Frank." He thought for a moment and then finally came to a decision. "Can you make it down into the healing rooms and fetch Lindsey without anyone else seeing you?" Mikey nodded, and Gerard let out a sigh. "I know we can't know she's safe, but I have to do something."

Mikey nodded. "She's our best chance. I don't know why she would make me better and hurt Frank. Why attack the King's favorite but leave his brother be?"

"I don't feel that any of this makes sense, as a means of hurting me, but I agree," Gerard said. "Bring her here."

Once Mikey had left the room, Gerard bent over Frank, pressing his hands to Frank's hot skin. "Why would someone do this?" he murmured. "Why would you hurt this man?" Frank whimpered a little and Gerard stroked Frank's cheek, heart beating faster when Frank pushed closer to Gerard's palm. "I'm here, love. We're going to fix this." He laid down next to Frank again, trying not to panic.

When there was a knock on the door a few minutes later, he sat up and positioned himself between Frank and the intruder, but it was just Mikey, with Lindsey following close behind. "Oh my god," Lindsey said when she caught sight of Frank. 

"Lindsey, you have to help him," Gerard begged, past any sense of dignity. "You just have to."

"I will do whatever I can, but let me take a look at him," she said, climbing onto the bed next to them both. She felt Frank's forehead, then pressed an ear against his chest and listened for a moment. She pulled away and frowned, mouth pursed.

"What is it?" Gerard asked, not at all liking the look on her face. 

"You said it was poison you saw in your dream?" she asked Mikey, who nodded. "You're sure of that?"

Mikey blinked. "Well, it was definitely something unnatural, changing him, filling him up and then tossing him around in a storm. But I didn't see someone preparing a powder or anything, no."

Lindsey frowned harder. "Gerard, can you take his shirt off?"

Gerard scrambled to obey, supporting Frank's upper body in his arms while he tugged the shirt off as gently as he could. Frank moaned in his arms, and Gerard hastened to reassure you.

"Hey, hey, I've got you. We're going to make you better," he murmured. Once the shirt was up over Frank's head he tossed it in a corner and laid Frank back down onto the pillows. He gasped when he saw what was on Frank's chest. 

Directly over his heart was an angry-looking red rune. Gerard leaned over to take a closer look but Lindsey's arm stopped him. 

"Gerard, you mustn't touch it. When was the last time Frank's clothes were changed or you saw his bare chest?"

Gerard had to think hard; the last week blurred together too easily. "I believe yesterday afternoon? Or perhaps the day before, I can't remember. I don't think I bathed him yesterday, actually." He rubbed his head. "What does it mean?"

Lindsey looked over at him, her face serious. "Well, the good news is that I know what this is, and it isn't poison."

Gerard glanced at Mikey, who looked shell-shocked. "What's the bad news then?"

Lindsey turned her head back to Frank. "It's not poison, but it is magic. And it's killing him."

Gerard had a moment of thinking _he was right,_ his father had known what he was saying about magic for all of these years, but then the look of horror on Mikey's face forcibly reminded him that it wasn't all magic that was evil. "How do you know?"

Lindsey hesitated. "I recognize it from one of my books, Gerard. I have many of them."

"Do you know of a way to undo it?" At Lindsey's nod, Gerard exhaled, relieved. "Can I hold him while you try, or do you need space around him?"

Lindsey stared at him, her eyes wide and frightened. "You want me to perform magic on him?"

"Can you do it?" She nodded mutely. "Then I expect you to do nothing less. Where do you need me?"

Lindsey glanced at Mikey for a moment, apparently finding reassurance there. "Get yourself between him and the wall. This won't be pleasant for him, but holding him steady should help some." 

Gerard had started moving before she had even finished her instructions. "Mikey, bolt the door. Lindsey, is it safe for him to be in here?"

She nodded. "The only people at risk will be me and Frank, and I'm going to do everything I can to make sure we're both fine." 

Gerard kissed Frank's temple in response and then looked back up at Lindsey. "We're ready."

Lindsey backed away from them at Gerard's words, stopping only when she was right in front of the wall opposite them. She shook out her arms, gaze steady on Frank.

"Make sure nothing is between me and that mark," she commanded, and then she began to chant.

Almost immediately Frank whined in distress, back arching as the skin around the mark started to pull up towards Lindsey. Gerard gripped him tightly, one arm holding him firm around his belly and his right hand pushing back against Frank's right shoulder. He trusted Lindsey, had to, but the power displayed here was unlike anything he'd seen before, its effects foreign and frightening. He had to suppress the desire to pull Frank away.

Taking the risk that it wouldn't disturb Lindsey's work, Gerard started to whisper in Frank's ear, as much to reassure himself as Frank. 

"It's okay, baby, Lindsey's just going to do what she must to make you well, and then you're going to be just fine." Frank merely moaned, a low rattle in the back of his throat, and when Gerard looked down at the skin over his heart, it was all deep red, the mark painfully swollen.

Lindsey stopped chanting just long enough to say, "This part's going to be bad," and then she launched into her recitation again, arms outstretched. Frank's entire body began to shake violently, and just as Gerard was afraid he wouldn't be able to hold him down on his own, Mikey's hands joined his in keeping Frank still.

Lindsey's voice rose in volume, the words whipping around them, and as she chanted faster and faster the curtains on the bed began to flutter, the bed linens rustling as they too were pulled towards her.

Frank began to make sounds that at first sounded like random noises to Gerard, but he strained to listen over the din of Lindsey's chanting and the rising wind. He finally made out that Frank was saying, "Gee, _Gee,_ " over and over again, and Gerard tightened his hold on Frank.

"I'm here, Frank. I'm here, love," he answered, kissing his temple, biting back his own fear that it won't be enough, that he's too late. "You're going to get through this--"

Frank screamed, his entire body seizing up as the mark started to lift away completely, a black cloud streaming out of his chest towards Lindsey. It seemed to last forever, both Frank's cries of anguish and the magic pouring from his body. Gerard couldn't take his eyes off the magic made manifest in front of him, holding his breath until the last wisp of inky smoke was drawn into a whirling ball suspended between Lindsey's hands.

Frank collapsed against him, panting and trembling. Gerard held him close, staring down at his chest where a pale outline of the mark remained.

Frank tucked his nose against Gerard's throat and gasped his name in a voice that was raspy and exhausted. The sound made Gerard shut his eyes against the tears that wanted to spill out--it was the first time in days that Frank sounded at all like himself.

"I'm here, love," he said again, running his hands up and down Frank's sweat-covered back. "Right here."

"What--what happened?" Frank asked. Gerard looked to Lindsey for an answer.

"It's very old, very dangerous magic," she said. "It was draining Frank's energy--some would say even the soul, but I don't know about that--to be stored for someone else to use."

"So there's another sorcerer in my kingdom then," Gerard said, noting Lindsey's minute flinch at the words.

A moment later she was entirely composed again. "Possibly, although this feels more like someone acquired a magical artifact and used it without much skill. This is usually a rapid spell, and as far as I can tell Frank's been fighting it off for days. Normally it would be over a matter of hours."

Gerard glanced at Mikey, still standing next to the bed, his mouth tense. As glad as Gerard was that Lindsey was here to reverse the spell, the sheer power wielded against him was terrifying. And this from an amateur. Camelot was utterly unprepared for defending the kingdom from a more sophisticated attack. 

Lindsey stepped sideways towards the wall and leaned against it, the sphere of smoke still hovering between her hands. Her movements were almost graceful enough to conceal the her fatigue, but Gerard was abruptly aware that he had no idea how much energy a counterspell like that must demand. "I think someone is playing with some very dangerous magic they don't know how to control," she said. 

"Even more reason we need to find this person now, before more damage is done." Gerard wasn't sure how he was going to lead a massive manhunt and tend to Frank hand and foot at the same time, but he was sure he'd find a way.

Lindsey smiled. "That shouldn't be a problem. If I'm right about the artifact, the attacker will know the magic's no longer draining Frank's life but won't know if he's dead or alive."

"They would need to retrieve that cloud, though, right?" Gerard asked slowly. "If they wanted that power, now would be the time to get it."

Nodding, Lindsey turned her gaze back to the black cloud between her hands.  
"This won't be stable for long."

A knock sounded on the door.

Lindsey pushed off from the wall, twisting her hands around the black cloud and tossing it off to the right, where it stopped moving completely, suspended in the air. She put her finger up to her mouth and walked back over to the door, flinging it open.

"Michael! What a pleasant surprise." In the blink of an eye, Michael Pedicone was on his knees in front of her, hands pulled tight behind his back through some force Gerard couldn't see. Mikey gripped Gerard's shoulder hard, and Gerard glanced at him for a moment, seeing his own rage and betrayal reflected on his brother's face. "Now why don't you tell me where you got something that would allow you to wield magic as powerful as this." She raised one finger and his body bent back further until his head was almost on the ground. "Because I can tell already you possess no significant ability of your own."

Gerard stared at Michael, this so-called friend of Frank who had turned on him in this way. It was a good thing Frank was so heavy in his lap, or else he would have already ripped Michael's throat out. He forced himself to remain still; they needed whatever information they could obtain from Michael while he still lived. His arms tightened around Frank's body unconsciously. 

Michael gasped in a few breaths. "I may have needed the help of the chalice, but I still succeeded, didn't I? All that power right there." He gazed up at the black cloud of magic, something hungry and ugly in his eyes. 

Lindsey laughed. "Well, it might have, if you hadn't attacked someone who happens to have a fair number of people in his corner. Like the King. And if you actually knew what you were doing, you might have recognized that Frank? Isn't dead. And that cloud you see is the magic of that chalice in its free form." She leaned over, staring at his face. "In short, Michael, you're fucked."

Gerard saw a hint of panic flash over Michael's face before the bravado returned. "I don't give a shit about what king Frank has decided to roll over for. This has nothing to do with Camelot."

"You might want to think about not insulting Frank right now," Mikey noted casually. "I'm not sure if you've noticed this, but we have the upper hand in this conversation. You could try begging for mercy instead. Might help."

"I'm not sure it would, Mikey," Gerard said. "So if you didn't poison him to get to me, what was it?"

Michael dragged his head to the side so he could see Gerard. "He left our king. He insulted every member of the court and then went off to find himself, playing music across the land," he sneered, derision dripping from each word. "And his father doesn't want him back, of course, would never want a worthless ungrateful son, but he might want the power that his soul could give him. So I spoke with a warlock who was only too happy to give me power to bring into Camelot--I can't imagine why, Your Majesty, given what a glowing reputation you have with sorcerers and wizards--and then when I helped draw his bath I submerged the chalice in the water just long enough to start the process."

Gerard wanted to cover Frank's ears while listening to this, couldn't stand him hearing this man say such things about him. He had heard enough. "Lindsey, he doesn't retain any of the power he stole, right?"

She shook her head. "He's completely worthless."

Gerard nodded. "Good. Mikey, can you fetch the guards? We'll throw him down below for now until we decide what should be done with him."

Mikey pushed himself off the wall and walked out to the hallway, shouting "Guards!" 

At Mikey's call, four guards hastened to the room. "Take him to the dungeons," Gerard said. Lindsey let her hand drop and Michael fell like he was a puppet whose strings had been cut. The guards dragged him away. 

Gerard sighed, suddenly completely exhausted. "Lindsey, what does Frank need?"

Puzzled, she asked, "What do you mean?"

Gerard smoothed his hand down Frank's back. "Is he still sick, or--"

"Oh!" Lindsey's face cleared, and she walked over to the side of bed. Frank lifted his head up to look at her. "He probably still has a cold, but it shouldn't be anything like what it was while he was full of magic. That prevented his body from healing. Rest and lots of soups and more rest should do the trick, and quickly too, I'd bet." Frank snuggled closer to Gerard's body. "Lots of sleep," she said again, brushing her hand over his hair. 

Gerard nodded. "How often should I wake him for food?"

"If he goes more than eight hours without eating anything, probably. But as he regains his strength, his appetite should follow soon after." She walked over to where the black cloud was still floating in the air. "I need to take care of this, too."

"Do what you need to do."

Lindsey had already turned her full attention to the mass of magic, shuffling her feet out wide and bending her knees as if to brace herself for impact. She began chanting again, arms outstretched towards the orb, and the black smoke started to whirl in on itself, moving faster and faster until Gerard could hardly see anything at all. And then suddenly she brought her arms out to the side and stopped chanting, and the smoke disappeared completely with a large bang. 

She spun back around to them, face a little sweaty as she beamed at Gerard. "All gone!" 

Gerard stared at her in wonder. "I don't know how you did that, but it was amazing." Mikey nodded in agreement. 

Lindsey flushed a little, wiping her hands on the apron she was still wearing. "Just doing what I can."

Gerard didn't want to think about what would have happened if Mikey hadn't found her, or if Gerard hadn't become suspicious of Grant and so bypassed him completely. "I am very glad you can do what you do. You will always have my gratitude for it. I am in your debt, truly."

Lindsey rolled her eyes and walked over to the bed, kissing first Frank on the cheek and then Gerard. "Yes yes, very pretty words."

Mikey spoke up. "I think it's probably time for you and Frank to get some sleep, Gerard. But I'll come back at dinner time. Do you think Frank would like it if I brought Alicia and Piglet?"

Gerard smiled and let his head fall back on the pillow, Frank already snoring softly against his chest. "Sounds perfect."

The next week passed in a pattern of Gerard waking up with Frank in the early morning, feeding him some porridge and then walking out as quietly as he could once Frank had fallen back asleep. He would return every four hours or so, taking a break in between all of the duties that he had pushed off while Frank was ill. He would come back in the evening, usually with Mikey and Alicia and Piglet in tow, and he would sit and attempt to not stare too creepily or reach out and touch Frank too often. 

Once they had left for the night, however, he would tug up Frank's shirt and pet over the faint outline of where the mark used to be, kissing and licking and sometimes biting down over it. Frank let him, looking down at him and stroking over his hair, and then Gerard would make himself pull back a little, tucking Frank into his side so they could sleep. 

Frank's recollection of the magic Lindsey performed to save his life was fuzzy at best. But he remembered all too well who had attacked him. 

"I shouldn't have trusted him, when he first came," he said, voice fierce and low. 

Gerard shook his head. "We all did."

Frank's face grew more shuttered. "I let him endanger your whole court, Gerard, by not seeing through his facade. It was my fault for not seeing him for the snake he is."

"Frank, you couldn't have known," Gerard protested. But nothing Gerard said could mollify him, and Frank flatly refused to discuss Michael after that. 

Three days after the mark had been removed, Gerard went down to the healer's rooms, needing to see two people. 

He knocked first on Grant's door. "Can I come in?"

Leaning back in his chair, Grant raised an eyebrow. "I hardly think you need to ask that question, Gerard."

He tilted his head in acknowledgement of this truth. "I still wanted to check."

Grant shrugged. "You can come in." He bent back over his work. 

Gerard made his way in and then sat down on the top of the nearest table. "I assume Lindsey told you what happened with Frank?"

Nodding, Grant continued to work on the liniment he was preparing. It smelled like the one Gerard had used on his shoulder for so long, with an additional scent he couldn't quite place. "I'm glad to hear he's doing better."

Gerard crossed his arms over his chest. "He is. Grant, I wanted to apologize for coming to get Lindsey that day instead of you."

At that, Grant stopped what he was doing and looked over at Gerard. "I hold no grudge against you for that, Gerard. I know why you did, and under the circumstances I can't blame you for it. And you're lucky you did ask for her and not me. I certainly wouldn't have been any use to you."

Gerard shook his head. "Still, I could have trusted her without doubting you. I'm sorry."

Grant leaned over and grasped Gerard's arm. "You are forgiven, then."

Gerard put his hand over Grant's and squeezed. "I'm glad. Well, I'll leave you to your work."

"Off to ask Lindsey why she's still preparing tinctures for headaches rather than sitting at your table? Good man," Grant said, focus back on his work. 

Gerard laughed. "Yes, exactly." He left Grant's small workroom and made his way over to Lindsey's closet, not even bothering to knock. "So, how much of that did you hear?"

"All of it. You really are a ridiculous man, you know that," Lindsey answered, hands still busy grinding down powders. 

"So I've been told. But you haven't answered my question."

Lindsey looked up at him, wiping a hand across her forehead and leaving a smudge of something there. "Well, I don't believe I've actually been asked anything yet."

Gerard grinned. This was going to be fun. "Lindsey, this court has been without a sorcerer for far too long. My father was inexcusably afraid of magic for many years, and while I now have firsthand knowledge of just what it can do to someone, I also have an appreciation of the marvels possible as well. Will you join my court and help protect Camelot and her people?"

Lindsey looked back at him. "Well, I don't know. What sort of payment can I expect in exchange?"

"The solid satisfaction of knowing that you're serving the people?" Lindsey cocked an eyebrow at him. "Plus a suite of rooms and two bags of silver a season."

"Now you're talking," she said. "I don't do this sort of thing because I like people, you understand. I'm in it for the money."

Gerard laughed. "That's always been obvious."

"Well good. Now get out of my workspace. Also I don't want to have to go to every council meeting, you understand? My headache remedies are still the best in the land and I am well-compensated for them." Lindsey winked at him and then went back to her work.

Gerard left her alone after that.

That night when he was back in his rooms with Frank, he told him about his new court magician. "There are going to be people who won't be happy about this, Frank."

Frank shrugged. "Let them be unhappy. The reintroduction of magic would always inspire fear in some, but you must take that risk. You'll never have a better opportunity--you know who Lindsey is, know what kind of a person she is, and if the court can't trust you with that, you have more to worry about than just this."

"Thanks, Frank," Gerard said wryly. "You always know just how to reassure me."

"Not a problem!" Frank said. He yawned, trying to conceal it into his nightshirt. 

"Did you sleep well today?" Gerard asked.

Frank nodded. "Pretty good. Just still not full strength yet, but I'm getting there. Want to check over my mark?"

Gerard had indeed. He nodded, and when Frank got it up over his head he immediately ran his hand over his chest, fingers stroking softly just over the nipple. 

Frank made a soft sound at the contact, pressing closer to Gerard's hand, and Gerard gave in and leaned over to suck it in his mouth, biting down gently. Frank moaned then, twisting his fingers through Gerard's hair.

Gerard pulled away for a moment, trying to ignore the disappointed sigh that Frank made. This was important. "You'll tell me if I'm hurting you, or if it's too much?"

Frank looked down at him with fond exasperation. "Yes, Gerard. Now get your mouth back on me."

Gerard took his advice, dragging his lips over the faint pale marks on Frank's skin. He needed to learn them, needed to know them as well as he knew the rest of Frank's body. He paid attention to the different ways Frank would respond to his touch, when he pushed up against Gerard's mouth and when he pulled away, gasping at the sensation. 

It made Gerard impatient to touch and feel the rest of him, but he forced himself to take his time, move slowly over Frank's chest until he finally got to his nipple again. He swirled his tongue around the bud before biting down gently and then tugging more firmly. 

"Oh god, Gerard," Frank gasped out. "Yes, right there, like that." 

Gerard was good at following directions, at least when Frank was the one giving them. He wanted to make Frank feel everything in his body, have the same fire in his blood that Gerard felt every time he looked at him. Frank's hands tugged on Gerard's hair and he pressed back against them, loving the way that made him know he was right here, nowhere else.

"Gerard," Frank made out seconds or minutes later, Gerard couldn't tell. "I need you up here." Frank tugged Gerard towards his face and kissed him intently, the passion pouring through his lips into Gerard's mouth. 

Gerard pulled back a little. "Are you sure you're well enough?" he asked, running his hands down Frank's side. 

Frank nodded against his head, kissing him again. "I'm fine, I promise you. And I wanted to ask you something."

"Anything," Gerard said as he trailed across Frank's face, dropping kisses before biting down on Frank's jaw.

Frank let out a deep breath and reached over to table, palming the jar of oil for the lamp that was there. He held it up to Gerard, his face questioning. 

It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. Gerard couldn't breathe, could hardly think at all, could only swallow hard and then nod shyly at Frank. "You'll have to--show me what to do, Frank."

Frank smiled up at him, his fingers dipping through the oil and then reaching down between his own legs. "It's merely theory for me as well."

Gerard's heart pounded and he leaned in to kiss Frank again, swallowing the soft groans from his mouth and feeling Frank's arm moving against his stomach as he prepared himself. There was an entire kingdom that was his, fields and forests and villages, riches and jewels. And he had never felt so proprietary about anything in the world like he felt about this man. 

When Frank gripped Gerard's cock with his slick hand and pressed the tip of him against his body, Gerard's entire body shuddered, his control already thin as parchment. Gerard took a deep breath and sank into Frank for the first time, his body yielding under him, and he tucked his head next to Frank’s neck. He breathed in his scent, and he let himself feel for just one moment the terror that ran through him when he thought he might lose this man, might lose him to a petty fool’s grand delusions.

He shuddered at the thought, kissing over the soft skin on Frank's neck, and then he began to thrust into Frank, rhythm as steady as he could make it. 

This was the reality, what he still had, Frank panting in his ear and the release already building low in his belly. “Oh fuck, Frank, I love you,” he said, needing to say with words what he body already was. “I just love you so fucking much.”

Frank laughed breathlessly, the sound turning into a moan as Gerard fucked him harder.  “I love you too, Gerard, oh God,” Frank said, tossing his head back. “More than I can say.”

“I would take over entire kingdoms for you,” Gerard said, words reckless in his need to show Frank everything he meant to him. 

Frank shook his head next to Gerard’s. “All I need from you is _this,_ ” he gasped, body trembling against Gerard's as he moved with him, his cock already spilling out between them. "Just this, oh, _oh,_ " he moaned, hands gripping Gerard's face as he came.

The feeling of Frank's body tight and hot around him was unlike anything Gerard had ever imagined, so perfect and intimate, and he panted into Frank's mouth as he thrust in harder and harder, trying to get even deeper. He wanted to be as close as they possibly could be, no space at all, and he cried out as he finally came inside Frank, the slick slide overwhelming and insistent.

He collapsed down onto Frank, cradling his face in his hands and kissing him over and over again, his cock softening inside him. When Frank finally began to squirm a little beneath him, he lifted himself up just enough to slip out and spoon behind Frank, pulling the covers up over them both and holding him close, nose pressed up against his hair.

* * *

Once the crisis had ended, and Frank was able to resume his role at dinner and not look like he was always a moment from falling asleep where he sat, Gerard called in a council.

It was incredibly small, hardly even worthy of the word: Gerard, Mikey, Lindsey and Ray. But it contained all of the people whom Gerard trusted without hesitation, about whom he had no doubt at all.

It was Gerard's intention to include Frank in these meetings in the future as well. But Gerard was fairly certain Frank would object to an entire session devoted to his safety and how he had been attacked in the first place.

Ray began. "Frank continues to recover?"

Gerard nodded. "Yes, he's made great progress these past three days in particular. Still not quite his full strength, but it's very encouraging. Lindsey can tell you more."

"As far as I can tell, he really was ill with a fairly average sickness until being attacked by Michael. The impact of both explains why his recovery has been so long, although I do expect that he will be much as he was before all of this within a week.” She turned to Gerard, face grave. “If Michael had been even a remotely competent sorcerer, however, it would have been far worse. I doubt I would have been able to help him.”

Gerard shivered, hands gripping his knees in an attempt to conceal his reaction. “So what do we do to protect ourselves in the future? This was a man we had no reason to suspect, after all.”   

Mikey said slowly, "I think our answer is right here."

"What do you mean?" Gerard asked. 

Mikey gestured to the members at the table. "The four of us are the keys, I think. Gerard, you're the leader, the symbol of Camelot. I know why you've been closeted with Frank for the last few weeks, and I don't blame you, but you need to get back out there. Ray, you're the one who's there in Gerard's absence, who carries the flag for him. I know that there's been some disruption to the training, and worries over the strength of the guards after Michael's deception. You can repair that, just by being you." He paused then, and he turned to Lindsey. "And you and I are the other half."

"Mikey--" Gerard began. 

"We need to put our skills to use. We need to work together so that my visions and your power can strengthen our knowledge of our enemies and give us the groundwork we need to protect our lands and make the lives of the people better. I don't think that I can reveal myself to the court, not while I'm still first in line to the throne," he said, looking at Gerard. 

"Certainly not," Gerard said. 

"But Lindsey needs to be introduced to the court as what and who she is. You need to formally welcome back magic to the court, Gee. You need to make it clear, both to our people and to those from elsewhere, that we are no longer vulnerable to being exploited so. I don't know if Michael would have done that even had he known of her power--he doesn't seem smart enough to fear a woman, or doubt his own special luck--but I cannot imagine that it wouldn't be a deterrent to others."

"Or at the very least," Ray said, "it might delay their plans enough that we could get wind of them first. It would buy us time, just like other first defenses would."

"Exactly." Mikey nodded at Ray and smiled a little. "We need to combine all of this until we figure out whether the attack on Frank really was just a solitary effort against him personally, or something farther-reaching."

Gerard frowned. "I approve of all of this generally, and of course I am more than happy to formally announce Lindsey's place in this court, if she approves." When Lindsey nodded, he went on. "But I still don't like how vulnerable Frank is here. Who knows how many people Michael told about his true identity? That combined with our...association makes me uncomfortable." He sighed, leaning back into his chair. "It's hard to know what to do when any attack against him would be known to be an attack on me, and yet wouldn't be officially. But short of overturning the Church altogether I'm not sure what to do about it."

Mikey studied him. "That actually reminds me, Alicia and I intend to be married sooner rather than later."

Gerard blinked back at him. "Congratulations?"

"Thank you. It just now occurred to me that perhaps that ceremony could provide some of the recognition you're looking for with Frank. If it's handled right."

Gerard nodded slowly, thinking. "In terms of succession--"

"Exactly--"

"And presentation--"

Mikey nodded again. "You see it, then."

Lindsey looked back and forth between the two of them. "I'm glad you both do, because I certainly don't."

Ray nudged her. "You'll get used to it."

Lindsey turned to him. "You actually followed that?"

Ray shook his head. "No, but I know that when they need me to know about it, they'll use all their words. Probably."

Gerard was still focused on his brother. "So when were you thinking? Perhaps one fortnight from now?"

Mikey grinned. "I think that will work. Enough time that you can introduce Lindsey to the court and for Frank to be fully recovered. And Piglet can survive the uncertainty of unmarried parents for a little while longer, I think."

Gerard nodded, his face solemn. "I am glad she will gain that stability. It has been a hard couple of months for her, I am sure. Just dreadful."

Gerard told Frank about their plans that night. "I'm going to introduce Lindsey to the court on Saturday."

Frank nodded. "They need to know what Camelot has working for her, Gerard. That's a good plan."

"I hope so." Gerard took a deep breath before he spoke again. "And Frank, I know that you don't want to mention your true identity yet--"

"It's not currently my identity at all."

Gerard inclined his head in acknowledgement of this. "But they need to know who you are to me, at least. That you're certainly not just a troubadour, or even just my favorite."

Frank looked at his, face open. "What am I, then?"

Gerard smiled.

* * *

The banquet was large and festive, an event planned as a prelude to the wedding of a prince. Frank played his most impressive and entertaining offerings, the crowd happy and pleased by the time it came for Gerard to make an announcement. An announcement he had spent a great deal of time preparing.

"Are you nervous?" Mikey asked, offering Gerard wine. He shook his head, sticking to water this night.

"Of course I'm nervous. We have no idea how they'll respond."

"If they protest or seem unhappy, just tell them Lindsey will turn them all into frogs if they complain."

Gerard stared at him. "Thanks, Mikey. I'll be sure to do that."

"It was my pleasure," Mikey said casually. "Oh, here comes the demon woman herself."

"I hear you saying terrible things about me, Mikey," Lindsey said as she walked up to the main table. "Don't think I won't make you the first frog of the kingdom."

"You see?" Mikey gestured at her. "Totally intimidating. No one will dare object."

Gerard knew that his brother was just trying to distract him, make him focus on anything other than his upcoming speech, but it still managed to be remarkably effective. He made himself take deep breaths, focus on what he was going to say and more importantly why, looking out at Frank and then over at Ray where he sat with some of the other knights, Christa beaming at him from across the table. Alicia was somewhere else in the hall; he realized he needed to see her as well at some point this evening, to discuss the following week's event. 

January was rarely so busy a season in Camelot, but this was a year of celebration and changes. It was almost as if they were preparing for the birth of the spring season with everything that was planned. He felt the anticipation and the nerves of the coming days coursing through his body, and as Frank's final piece began to make its way to its conclusion, swelling and then bringing it back down in turn, he increasingly felt like perhaps he needed to not be here right now. 

"Is Gerard going to be sick?" Lindsey asked. 

Mikey shook his head. "Nah, just wait, he'll stand up and suddenly be a completely different person."

"I don't know, Mikey, this feels different." Gerard's throat was dry and his legs felt wobbly. He wasn't even sure how he was going to manage standing. 

Mikey clapped him on the shoulder. "Trust me, Gee--I know you, and I know you'll be fine. Just talk to your people. They'll listen, I promise."

Gerard nodded. There wasn't really anything else he could do, anyway. This was the lot he had chosen for himself. He glanced over at Lindsey, head held high, neck long and regal, and started to feel a bit better. This wasn't actually just about him, after all. This was about her life, what she could be, how she could make the world brighter than just he alone could. 

That was what all of this was about. 

The final notes of Frank's song rang through the air, and Gerard watched as the crowd applauded and then began to grow a bit restless, uncertain of what was next. Frank made his way back to the table, and just the look on his face was enough to fully settle Gerard into his body, prepare him for what he needed to do. 

He pushed back away from the table, not alerting the crowd to his plan to speak with a bell or other signal, simply waited for them to notice him. And they did, the crowd quieting in waves as everyone started to look to the head table. 

"Good evening," he began. "I am thrilled to have you all here with me tonight, as we begin the week of celebrations in honor of my brother and my future sister." He smiled at Mikey and Alicia, who had joined them moments before and now sat next to Mikey, hands clasped together. "This is the beginning of new times in Camelot, truly. We all miss the presence of my father, a good king who died too soon." The hush of the crowd deepened as Gerard continued. "I have strived in my first few months to honor his legacy, to protect what he created and built and guarded with his life, truly. And I think that I have, and I intend to continue to. But honoring what and who he was cannot extend to those choices and beliefs of his which I understand, but cannot share."

He paused for a moment, looking out at his people. "This past week, a member of our court suffered a terrible attack by magic." The crowd responded instantly to the word, conversations erupting throughout the hall. Gerard waited a moment for them to settle before he continued. "Thankfully, the attack was not fatal. But it would have been, and our defenses and security in the world weakened, were it not for the willingness of a sorcerer in Camelot to reveal herself to me in this time of need in order to help. She put the well-being of another, and indeed the well-being of Camelot herself, before her own personal safety, having no idea what my feelings towards magic might be. That is the kind of sorcerer she is, and that is also the kind of person she has been in her other duties here."

Gerard turned to Lindsey, who smiled back at him and stood. "I would like to introduce to you all Lindsey Ballato, healer and court magician. Some of you have known her as an uncommonly talented preparer of a headache remedy that I myself have used, or a liniment for aches and pains. But her abilities extend far beyond those, and were it not for her abilities, Camelot would have lost someone very dear to her." Gerard had to pause for a moment to swallow against the memory of Frank lying against his bed, body fever hot. 

"I know that Camelot has not had an easy relationship with magic, or with those who practice it. I know that the damage and destruction that can be caused by magic is great. But greater still is the risk we run by ignoring its existence, by not using it for good, and by not protecting ourselves when others would do us harm through methods beyond iron and fire. I trust her and her intentions with my own life; I would never ask any of you to do the same without that assurance in my heart. And know this: anyone who attacks her, attacks Camelot." There was silence in the room, and while most of the crowd looked open, there were those he spotted who looked afraid, or wary, or in some cases, angry. Gerard made note of those faces he knew as people who should be remembered. He could not force people to be comfortable with this change immediately, but he could attempt to ease the way, encourage those of his court who were accepting to speak with them. 

"There is no doubt in my mind that Camelot's brightest era is still to come, and that Lindsey's presence and role in this court will be a primary cause of it. I am announcing this tonight because it truly is something to be celebrated. I am so glad you were all able to join us for this evening, and I know that the entire court is looking forward to the next celebration as much as I am." He smiled down at Mikey and Alicia and then sat, taking a well-deserved sip of wine once he did.

"I thought that was skillfully done, Gerard," Frank murmured at his side.

Gerard smiled, flushed with pleasure. "Thank you. I don't fancy myself a politician, but I suppose I can make do."

Frank shook his head. "You're not. You're a king inviting his people into the realities of the court and the kingdom. You're a true leader."

The true leader just beamed.  

* * *

For the next week Gerard split his time between helping with wedding preparations and introducing Lindsey's skills to his knights.

The former activity didn't strictly require Gerard's input, but when one's brother was the groom, Gerard figured even the king could be involved in choosing the color scheme for the hall and ensuring that the kitchens were preparing all of Mikey's favorite foods that were available in the winter.

And it was of some significance that this wedding was seen as grand and official and noble. Gerard and Mikey had no uncles, no cousins to muddy the succession waters, but that also meant that there needed to be a marriage and the promise of children from at least one of them sooner rather than later.

The majority of his own efforts were truly made out of love for Mikey and Alicia though, a desire for them to look around on the day they were married and know beyond anything else that they were loved.

The training with the knights and Lindsey was rather more black and white: his men needed to know what she could add to a battle soon rather than later, both so they would trust her and Gerard for including her, and also so their tactics could be adjusted properly.

When he crested the hill and met the men for their training, Lindsey by his side, he could see from the crowd's nervous posture that some would not be easily won.

"Good afternoon!" he began. "As I believe all of you know, Camelot is fortunate enough to have a sorcerer of great power dedicated to keeping her safe. And as part of that, Lindsey will be training with us on some of the drills, in order to fold this new strength into our current tactics. She is powerful enough to take on one flank of an army lacking a sorcerer, which provides us with a wide range of new offensive maneuvers.”

None of the knights were foolish enough to voice any doubt at this pronouncement, but Gerard could see from some of their faces that the doubt existed. He felt offended on Lindsey’s behalf and was about to continue telling them of her abilities, but when he looked over at Lindsey he saw none of his own discomfort reflected there. 

Lindsey smiled. A moment later a small copse of trees behind her was on fire, the flames licking merrily towards the sky. The fire blazed higher for a moment and then shrank back down, all without Lindsey moving an inch. The light illuminated the knights' faces, showing the fear and grudging respect and excitement at such a display.

For Gerard's part, he was proud of himself for not pumping his fist or performing some other inappropriate act of celebration. By the way Lindsey was looking at him, though, he was fairly certain his feelings on the matter were clear.

Every day that week ended back in Gerard's chambers, Frank sitting with his lute while Gerard began his dinner. That arrangement never lasted long; Frank rarely got through more than one song before Gerard would put down his cutlery and walk over to Frank, leaning down to kiss him.

Frank usually continued playing even as Gerard kissed him, forcing Gerard to use increasingly inventive methods of distracting Frank until he would lay down the instrument and stand to meet Gerard's mouth, arms twining around Gerard's neck.

Later, damp and naked in bed together, Gerard would tell Frank of his day, of either working with the laborers as they arranged the Great Hall just so for Sunday's event, or of his work with the knights and how they had already adapted to Lindsey's presence and input.

"Are they willing to listen to her?" Frank asked, making lazy circles with his fingers on Gerard's chest, head pillowed on Gerard's shoulder.

Gerard nodded. "For the most part. Luckily, there are a few knights who are bound and determined to show they're not afraid of her, or intimated. It has a ripple effect through them all."

Frank made a knowing sound. "None of them want to be the knight afraid of a woman."

"Exactly. So they also have to pretend to not be afraid of magic. And as a result they end up actually seeing who she is, and how she uses her magic, and while they still do fear her a little, it ceases to be the first thing in their minds when they see her."

Frank snuggled down closer to him. "Well, and it is pretty amazing what she can do."

Gerard brushed his hair back and kisses his forehead. "It is indeed. As I saw here."

They were quiet for a few moments, their chests rising and falling next to each other. Finally, Frank spoke. "Do you know what you're going to do with Michael?"

Gerard's hand stilled in his hair. "For now, he'll stay in the dungeons."

"Yes, but he won't remain there forever." Frank's tone was sure.

Gerard shook his head. "No. I keep hoping we might get more information from him, find out what your father could possibly be doing, but he's been remarkably resistant to spilling more secrets since we locked him up."

Frank sighed against Gerard's chest. "I don't think we need to ask Michael for more information. I think it's perfectly obvious what my father is trying to do."

"You do?" Gerard tilted his head back a little so he could see Frank's face better. "You haven't mentioned anything before."

"Well, I've only being up and about for a week, Gerard," Frank said, and Gerard tugged him close again, not liking to think about that at all. "I don't think my father cares for me at all, and I think he was merely trying to see whether magic was still something that could be used effectively against Camelot."

Gerard tried to comprehend this. "It was just a _test_?"

Frank nodded his head. "I'm fairly certain. I could be wrong, but I don't think he would bother at this point to attack me like that. I've already been banished; he knows he would need to make a grand overturn for me to return of his own volition, and I don't think he ever will."

The very concept was one completely foreign to Gerard. He and his father certainly didn't see eye to eye on all things, it was true, but this was a level of dissent he could barely even imagine. "What do you think he's planning?"

"I don't know." Frank nosed up next to Gerard's neck, his hand clutching the sheets. "But I think my presence here was nothing more than a happy coincidence for him. The fact that he could kill his son without anyone knowing it was him was just a bonus."

Gerard tried to stamp out the rage that filled his belly at those words, the instinctive desire to do something, anything, in retaliation. He focused back on Frank, thinking about the fact that it might have been an attack on them all, not just Frank. "What do you think he's concluded? About Camelot's defenses, I mean."

Frank pulled away from a moment, scrunching up his face. "I think he can't actually be sure. He must know it hasn't succeeded at this point, because I should be dead and Michael should have returned with the chalice by now. But I don't think he can know why it didn't succeed, and that's the key. For all he knows it was just that Michael was incompetent."

"A conclusion not so far off the mark," Gerard said.

Frank nodded. "Exactly. And so if I were him--"

"--You'd attack again, in a new way, as soon as you could," Gerard finished.

Frank nodded again, more slowly. "Yes."

Gerard was already calmer, more focused, now that there was something that needed to be done, to prepare for. It was no longer an abstract idea, simply a thought or a worry niggling at his mind. Having a concrete enemy, even without knowing said enemy's most likely next step, was enough.

He pulled Frank in for a brief kiss, drawing back enough so that he could look him in the eyes. "Frank, I don't think you can be my troubadour any longer. Or at least, not only my troubadour," he amended.

Frank's brow furrowed at the words. "What do you mean?"

Gerard smiled at him. "I want you to join my table."

"I can't declare myself as a prince, you know that," Frank said warily, his voice perplexed.

"I won't be announcing you as a prince, Frank," Gerard said, and he watched as a growing happiness dawned across Frank's face, wiping away all lingering confusion.

* * *

The day of Mikey and Alicia's wedding dawned clear and cold, the sun sparkling on the frost outside. Gerard was up even earlier than his normal rising, his brain too full of all that the day would be to continue sleeping on.

Frank seemed to have no such trouble, hugging his pillow close to his chest when Gerard withdrew from his arms and slipped out from under the covers. He bent down to kiss Frank's ear, taking a moment to breathe him in.

"Go see Mikey and let me get my rest in peace," Frank said, sound muffled slightly by the pillow. 

Gerard smiled and turned to see where his dressing gown might be.

He didn't bother to knock, opening the door to Mikey's suite and crawling next to him in bed, head propped up on his elbow. "Good morning."

Mikey opened one eye. "What are you doing in my room, Gerard?"

"I'm here to offer you my support! Do whatever it is that you may need an older brother to do! That sort of thing."

Mikey rolled over a little onto his back. "You couldn't sleep, could you."

"Nope," Gerard said cheerfully. "So are you nervous?" Mike shook his head. "Really?"

Mikey turned to look at him. "Why would I be nervous? There's nothing else in the world that I'm as certain of as this. Alicia is it for me. You know that." He gave a sigh and finally threw off his covers, padding across the room to wash his face in the basin. He looked back at Gerard while patting his face. "Well? Are you going to help me or not?"

Gerard jumped off the bed to begin performing his brotherly duty.

* * *

The Great Hall had been transformed, the tapestries and decorations illuminated by candles and torches. And everyone who stepped into the room matched its splendor, the finery impressive and flattering.

Gerard couldn't keep his eyes off of Frank though. He was wearing the same deep green cloak he had worn on the first night he had played in this hall.

"You look beautiful," Gerard murmured in his ear, stepping back before he did something completely reckless like take Frank back behind the casks of mead and kiss him until they both couldn't breathe. He refused to upstage his brother's big day like that. 

Frank smiled. "Thank you. And you're certainly looking--impressive." 

"I have a responsibility to demonstrate my approval of this match in every way possible. And that happens to include dress," Gerard said, smoothing down his new tunic.

"Well, I don't know anyone who wouldn't approve of that," Frank said, eyes roving over Gerard's body, and Gerard didn't bother to explain that that wasn't quite what he meant by approval.

He was fairly certain Frank knew that already. 

The trumpets sounded, announcing that the ceremony was about to start. Mikey looked just like he always did, standing calmly in the front of the room, his eyes focused on the door where Alicia was expected. But when the doors finally opened, he broke out into the biggest grin Gerard had ever seen on his brother's face. 

Alicia was resplendent, the glow of her face matching the beauty of her gown, and the ceremony itself went by in a flash, the words barely registering in Gerard's ears. All he could see was his brother's face, and the happiness and contentment there. 

It was that happiness he focused on when he gave the toast to the newlyweds during the celebratory feast afterward. "My brother is not one for overly effusive demonstrations of emotions," he said, nodding at those who laughed in response. "Indeed, many have commented that they never know what he is thinking, or feeling, at any given moment. And while I can't personally claim to have difficulty reading his face, I understand why others might."

Gerard paused and looked over at his brother and new sister. "That has never been the case when Mikey looks at his bride, though. In those moments, his thoughts and feelings become as clear as a lake on a spring day, for all to see. He does not hide his love, his affection, and she returns that openness in full. They are truly a match this way." He raised his goblet and waited as the rest of the crowd followed him in turn. "To Mikey and Alicia. You are both so dear to me, and I look forward to the day when I can greet your hopefully many children, whom I will consider as my own in all ways."

There was a slight ripple through the crowd at that statement, and Gerard very deliberately slid his hand behind Frank's back, drawing him closer. "Please join us in wishing them all the happiness in the world."

"Do you think they understood your meaning?" Frank asked later as they got ready for bed.

Gerard shrugged. "I think some of them did, at least, and I think it planted a seed that may bloom when they see us again. But right now, I can't say I'm thinking much about them at all." He tugged Frank in for a kiss.

Frank pulled back for a moment, eyes mischievous. "Perhaps you've forgotten who were married tonight."

Gerard shook his head and pulled Frank down onto the bed, pressing him firmly into the mattress. "I get to do this every night."

* * *

They held their first full council a week after the wedding, Gerard beaming at the people assembled around the table. It felt better to have Frank there as well, to know that he was a part of this and to truly integrate him. It was both his knowledge and his support that Gerard relied upon, the way he completed the table.

"Let's start with an update from Mikey. Anything going on at night that we need to know of?" Gerard looked over at his brother, who looked calm and settled.

"Nothing since Frank's illness," Mikey said, rubbing a hand over his face. "It's actually--odd, in all honesty."

"What's odd about it?" Ray asked.

Mikey shrugged. "I don't always have doom and gloom visions. Sometimes I simply know that a kitchen maid will be with child soon, or something like that. But I haven't been having any."

Gerard frowned. "Are you still taking Lindsey's tonic?" 

Mikey nodded. "Yes, but I still had visions while taking that for the first fortnight or so."

Gerard turned to Lindsey. "Is there a possibility that he's building a resistance or something like that?"

Lindsey shook her head. "No. I'm as surprised by this as you are."

Something about this didn't sit right with Gerard. "Mikey, any thoughts on what to do? I don't like the idea of you not taking it and not getting any sleep at all."

Mikey cracked a smile. "I'm not exactly not looking forward to that as a solution either, but I'm not sure we can afford my Sight being compromised at all."

Gerard sighed, the truth of that statement overwhelming.

"Lindsey, is there anything else you could do for Mikey that wouldn't affect him like this?" Frank asked.

"Like what?"

Frank smiled ruefully. "Well, like magic. What would you have done for him if he had known you were a sorcerer when he first came to you?"

Lindsey leaned back in her chair, folding her arms over her chest. "Well, my potion skills are quite good, you know," she said, but then relented when Frank crossed his arms and stared right back at her. "But I probably would have suggested a slightly more powerful mix."

Frank turned back to Mikey. "Would you be willing to try that instead?"

Mikey shrugged. "I don't see why not. It's all the same to me, really."

"And you actually think this will impact his Sight less?" Gerard asked, not quite following.

Lindsey nodded. "If anything, it will actually heighten it, while still allowing his body to get a complete rest. And I don't trust that this just started happening. It _could_ be a coincidence--"

"--But that would be an awfully suspicious one," Gerard finished. He slapped the table. "Do it."

Lindsey laughed. "I'll be sure to get right on that."

Gerard turned to Ray. "I've been quite happy with how the men have been responding to Lindsey, but you have a closer connection with them. Anything we should know about?"

Ray shook his head. "Everything I've heard so far has been fairly positive, with a couple of the knights borderline enamored with Lindsey. Brendon in particular seems to be quite taken with you."

Lindsey looked rather smug and unsurprised. "Well, while I am certainly flattered, I'm not sure how wise it is to mix business with pleasure."

"I don't know, I don't think there's anything wrong with that," Gerard said lightly, but no one was fooled.

"Be that as it may, Brendon is not the person I would test those waters with," Lindsey said, smirking. 

Ray held out his hands. "Fair enough, I just thought I would mention it." 

"Anything else?" 

"Nothing that I can think of, Gerard. I've been pleasantly surprised at how easily they've taken to her, but if there is dissent, they're keeping quiet around me." Ray paused, looking thoughtful. "I think it was the lightning that really got people on her side."

"What can I say, I know what I'm selling," said Lindsey, polishing her knuckles against her dress. 

"And Frank," Gerard said, letting himself really focus on him for the first time during the meeting. "Our main concern is what your father might try next. Thoughts?"

Frank frowned, stroking over his mouth before he spoke. "Well, if I were him, I'd want to send another sorcerer, someone who's actually powerful, before the spring. I wouldn't wait until then to launch a full campaign, because Camelot's strength will be too great." He paused for a moment. "So I expect that we'll see someone new come to visit."

"How can we know, though?" Ray asked. "We get ten knights a month coming through to challenge and pledge their loyalty to Gerard. We can't refuse them all. We need them just as much as they need us."

Before Gerard could grow too concerned, Lindsey spoke up. "That's easy enough. Before allowing a challenge to go forward, let me see the knight. I can tell if he's someone to worry about."

"How will you know?" Frank looked a little awed. 

Lindsey smiled gently. "If they have enough magical power to be a real threat, I'll be able to sense them. If there's a good enough shielding spell to fool me while I'm concentrating directly on them, I don't know of it."

"The last threat wasn't actually magical, though. You wouldn't have recognized that even if you had scanned him," Mikey pointed out.

"Yes, but my father won't try the same thing twice, trust me," Frank said. "He's going to increase his attack, I am sure of it."

Gerard nodded, convinced. "Very well. Lindsey, in the future either Ray or I will come to you whenever a new candidate arrives, and we won't let them through the gates until you've given us the all clear." Gerard couldn't help but grin at all of them.

"Pretty soon he's going to hug all of us in turn, just wait," Mikey said, eyeing Gerard. 

Gerard shook his head. "Forget in turn, I want to hug all of you together," he said, pushing back his chair. "Actually, everyone come here."

And they did.

The next few weeks followed a similar pattern of training and reconvening and preparation. The number of knights coming to challenge for the right to join Gerard's knights had begun to increase, the coming spring inspiring more young men to leave their smaller towns and venture off for the chance at glory and recognition. 

Gerard and Ray used the challenges as an opportunity both to scout out new potential members of their rank and also give the knights experience at single combat with fighters they didn't already know. Spencer was always eager to go up in battle, his swordplay confident and impressive, but Gerard was careful to rotate through the men, for reasons of fairness and keeping them all on their toes. 

Before each fight began, Lindsey was called out to the field. This had disqualified two of the knights before the challenge even began; their reactions to a woman allowed near the knights was reason enough for their swift dismissal. 

Lindsey had wanted to enchant their swords, but Gerard managed to convince her that this perhaps wasn't the best method of keeping her presence a secret. She had grudgingly agreed, although he was fairly certain that when they left their horses were rather more difficult to manage than most chargers would be. 

Just as important, none of the prospective knights had been revealed to be a sorcerer in disguise. After observing the ninth or tenth plainly powerless man, Gerard was beginning to feel a little silly at their efforts to root out a seemingly imaginary magical threat, but he knew that this sort of wait and see method of attack was important. And it gave him an excuse to pay more attention to the new knights, a role he had been leaving more to Ray during the past months.

Gerard didn't apologize for that; it wasn't every day that a distraction like Frank arrived in one's home, and he neither wanted to shirk his other duties nor miss out on the opportunity to spend time with him. 

He was enjoying being present for more of the challenges now though, and it was because of this that he was there to see the most recent prospect come through the gates, riding tall and proud on his horse.

On second glance, however, it appeared that the knight wasn't particularly tall at all. Gerard didn't judge him by that; he knew better than most that height was but one indication of a knight's skill. After all, if that alone determined prowess, he would hardly be the warrior he was. 

He continued to watch as the knight made his way into the center of the training field, ready to present. Gerard was captivated in a way he hadn't been by any previous knight he'd seen. 

"What is it?" Frank asked, and Gerard startled, not realizing that he had come out with Lindsey this afternoon. "You seem rather intrigued."

Gerard shook his head. "I don't know, there's just something--different, somehow, about this knight."

"Different like a magician different?" Frank asked, eyes suddenly hard as he squinted at the knight, apparently trying to see through the knight's armor and into his soul. 

"I don't know. Lindsey, are you getting anything here?" 

Lindsey was still focusing on the knight, her brow slightly furrowed. "Nothing magical, certainly." Her face cleared, and a tiny smile appeared before she turned back to Gerard. "I can think of no reason why that rider shouldn't be allowed to challenge. That knight is certainly not a sorcerer."

Gerard turned back to the knight and then made a decision. "Ray!" he called out.

Ray jogged over to him, his armor clanging around his legs and body. "What's the verdict?" he asked. 

"Lindsey says the knight poses no threat," Gerard said.

"Excellent! I'll choose a knight for the combat," Ray said, turning to go already.

"You should choose me," Gerard said. "Actually, let me rephrase that: I am going to fight the knight."

The three of them stared at Gerard, Frank with a look of amazement, Ray of doubt and Lindsey of great amusement. He paid each of them no mind. 

"Gerard," Ray said finally. "Your Majesty. That's not really how this is done."

"Do you think I have anything to fear from any knight in single combat?" Gerard asked. He waited for Ray to shake his head slowly. "Lindsey has already cleared him, and well." Gerard paused, trying to put his feelings into words, and then he shrugged and gave up. "I just want to. It's time for me to have a little fun."

"Oh yes, sure, by all means go off and have some fun in single combat, sounds great to me," Frank said, his amazement having shifted to what looked like warring pride and exasperation.

"It really is!" Gerard said before leaning in quickly and kissing Frank. They were just barely concealed enough for such an act to be even remotely acceptable in front of his men, but if he was going to go off in battle, however controlled, he was going to have a kiss to send him off. 

He called over Ryan to get him properly situated for the fight, the other knights beginning to crowd around as they realized who would be fighting this particular challenger. His body responded instantly to the addition of each new piece, settling into the mode of a warrior. By the time he was fully dressed, helmet on and sword in hand, his mind was perfectly calm, focused and ready. 

After looking back at Lindsey one last time before entering the circle, he crossed into the pit, striding up to the knight who had dismounted and stood before him. 

“Welcome to Camelot,” Gerard said, voice formal and official. 

The knight inclined his head. “I thank you. I would fight for the honor of joining your knights and defending Camelot from all her foes, both near and far.” The knight’s voice was muffled, but the sincerity shone through. A good sign. 

“Your challenge is accepted. We will fight until one of us yields our sword to the other. And I caution you to not fight beyond the accepted standards of challenge fighting; if you attempt to truly harm me, I assure you that you will both fail and be treated much less kindly.”

Gerard felt he could feel the knight’s eyes on him, even through the full face covering of the helmet. “You have nothing to fear from me on that front, Your Majesty.”

Gerard smiled behind his own mask. “I believe you.”

The fight began. 

From the moment they started, it was clear to Gerard that they were a match.

The knight responded to everything he threw at him, responded and parried and countered, flowing from one stance into the next. It felt less like a fight and more like a dance, each of them moving to some unheard music flowing through both of them and out through their swords. 

Gerard grinned wide behind his helmet, the sweat beginning to drip down his hairline. He knew he could stop this now, yield and offer his hand, formally acknowledging what everyone watching must know as well as he, but he didn't want to. He wanted to explore, find out what else the knight was capable of, and continue to play. It wasn't a feeling he was used to having, not recently. He had forgotten the pleasure he derived from the actual movements, the fundamental methods of battle in addition to the satisfaction of knowing how talented he was at it.

And this was joy. 

The sound of iron hitting iron filled the yard, the shuffling of their feet as they seamlessly moved to counter each other the only other noise in Gerard's ear. He could tell that the other knight was playing as well, each of them introducing moves that they would never, unless truly desperate, use in battle. It was beyond what he could have expected to encounter when he stepped up, but he wondered if somehow he had known, instinctively, if that was why he had felt such a need to be the one to answer this challenge.

Had he wanted to be the one to first experience this, to be able to match him? Gerard had no little amount of pride in the quality of his knights, but he also had no false modesty about his own superior abilities in one-on-one combat, either. And he wanted this knight to know what he would be joining when he did finally yield to Gerard.

They fought for a quarter of an hour, then half, and still they continued on. When they had just about reached an hour of the dance, far longer than any challenge lasted, the other knight finally, in a move as smooth and impressive as all others, completed defending a move from Gerard and then swept down to his knees, laying his sword on the ground, head bowed. 

Gerard slowly lowered his own sword, his heart pounding and lungs working hard. He walked up to the knight, bending at the knee and offering his hand. 

"You have done yourself and Camelot great honor in such a display. I would have been most pleased to have offered you a place here after a mere two minutes of sparring, but in truth I would not have deprived myself of the joy of fighting you. Take my hand, and when you rise, you will be one of mine."

The knight raised his head slowly, and there was a pause before he placed his leather-covered hand in Gerard's and stood, hand gripping Gerard's tightly. 

"I thank you for both the honor and the kind words, Your Majesty. And I hope, truly, that both will remain in a moment."

Gerard was about to ask what he meant when the knight let go of Gerard's hand and reached up to his helmet, unhooking it from his armor and pulling it off. 

Gerard stared. 

"You're--not really," he said, unable to believe his eyes.

The woman in front of him nodded, eyes steady on his own. "I can assure you that I am."

His mind reeling, Gerard couldn't think of what he wanted to say the most, wanting to ask how and where and _why,_ most of all. But quite without his consent or forethought, a large grin was starting to break across his face. She would be fitting addition to a kingdom that had a woman for a court magician. "I can only repeat my earlier words of honor and welcome. How should I address you?"

He could see a tiny thread of relief on her face at his words; it was somewhat comforting that she wasn't so well-possessed to have had no doubt of his offer. She was opening her mouth to speak when Gerard heard someone coming up behind him, and he turned to see Frank. 

Frank, who was staring at the woman with a look of wonder on his face. "Jamia? Is it really you?"

Gerard turned back to her as she was nodding and smiling back. "It is indeed. How are you, Frankie?"

There were only so many new pieces of information that Gerard could reasonably be expected to handle in such a short amount of time. "You two know each other?"

Jamia nodded. "I was a member of his father's court for many years. But I haven't seen this one in probably two."

"Your father allowed a female knight?" Gerard asked Frank, his confusion growing. 

Frank nodded. "My father has little compunction about breaking with tradition if he feels it will give him an advantage, in any way. And Jamia's talent, as you've just seen, is too great to ignore simply because of her sex." 

Gerard could both see this perfectly well and also felt like so much of his understanding of the world was coming apart at the seams. 

From behind him, Jamia coughed. Gerard whipped back around to see her looking at him with a wry grin on her face. "As touching as all of this is, perhaps we could continue it someplace less public? Also I wouldn't mind getting out of my armor, now that the fight has concluded."

"Oh! Oh yes, of course. My apologies, Jamia. Frank--"

"I can show her where she needs to go, Gerard," Frank interrupted, his eyes still on Jamia. Gerard swallowed hard against that and nodded, not that Frank actually noticed. 

"Thank you, Frank. I'll let Ray know that we'll have a new knight joining us."

"As I thought you might," Lindsey said, suddenly right next to his ear, and Gerard spun around again, feeling increasingly off-balance. 

Suddenly Gerard realized something, and he pointed at Lindsey. "You knew she was a woman!"

Lindsey shrugged. "Of course I did. But I could also tell she wasn't magical, and since that was the only piece of information I had been tasked with obtaining for you, I didn't feel it was relevant or warranted me revealing it to you prior to the match."

"Humph," Gerard said as they walked back over to where Ryan was waiting to help him remove his armor. "I'm not sure I agree with that."

Lindsey rolled her eyes. "I could also tell she was a true warrior and one who would almost certainly deserve a place here if people could get past her being, well, a her."

"Lindsey, you know I wouldn't have cared," Gerard said, sighing a little as Ryan removed his mail and then started rubbing down his arms and legs. He was tired, body satisfied in a way that it hadn't been from many weeks of training. He was already going through all of the steps of their combat in mind, breaking it down and analyzing what he could learn from her.

"I know that, but that wouldn't guarantee the knights' acceptance. But after a display like that, it will be hard for them to completely reject her," Lindsey said, offering Gerard a little of the salve for his shoulder. He nodded, and she handed it over to Ryan, who took it with a small look of displeasure before he began stoically working it into Gerard's skin. 

"Come now, all of the knights have accepted you," Gerard pointed out, sighing a little at the relief offered by the salve. 

"Yes, after many weeks of me demonstrating that I could crush them all without trying. As talented as Jamia is, she doesn't quite possess such firepower," Lindsey said, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm not sure they're more predisposed to accepting other women now simply because they'll grudgingly put up with me."

"Well, they had better get used to it, because she's going to be teaching half of them how to fight now," Gerard said decisively. "She's better than all of them, save for myself and Ray, and I wouldn't like to have to bet on the outcome of any of those fights."

"Nor would I," said Ray cheerfully as he walked up to them. "That was some damn impressive fighting."

"Ray, I want you to spar with her tomorrow, get a feel for what she can do. And then we can figure out how to integrate her with the rest of the knights." 

Ray beamed. "With pleasure! I haven't seen a challenge that actually looked like fun in ages. I think more of the knights than you may realize will be excited about getting a chance at fighting her."

"They won't be afraid of getting beaten by a woman?" Lindsey asked.

Ray's grin turned wolfish. "I think most of them will assume she can't, which may end up being fun for them."

Gerard could hear the wisdom and the warning in Lindsey's question, though. "Ray, I'll need you to keep a close ear on how the men do respond to her. If any of the men should have a problem with her joining our ranks, I want to know who." He paused for a moment, considering. "I also want to know if anyone has concerns about her that go beyond her sex. After the last _visitor_ from Frank's court, we can't be too careful." His eyes found Jamia talking with Frank across the field, wondering at what brought her here of all places. Gerard resolved to find out at dinner that night. 

"The men know that I have your ear, Gerard," Ray said. "I'm not sure how freely they still speak around me, to be blunt."

Off to the side, Ryan cleared his throat; until that moment Gerard had rather forgotten he was there in the first place. "Your Majesty, I can assure you that if you're looking for knights to report back on any dissent or threats, Brendon and Spencer would be well-placed and well-suited. They're respected and liked, but I can state beyond anything that they would have the same interests as you in this matter. And any less than trustworthy behavior from Jamia herself would be equally noted." Ryan's face had grown slowly pinker as he spoke until it settled at the color of a beet, his eyes focused down on the ground. 

Gerard looked at Ray, who shrugged. "They are both fine knights who have never shown any sort of stupid rebellion or rejection of your orders. And they were among the first to be truly easy around Lindsey. I think we could do worse."

Gerard nodded, turning back to Ryan. "Thank you for the suggestion, Ryan. Would you like to inform them, or should I have Ray speak with them?"

Impossibly, Ryan's face actually turned a darker shade of red. "I can inform them, Your Majesty. If I have your leave?"

"You may go now," Gerard said, watching with amusement as Ryan took off like a shot. He shook his head. "I have a feeling I'm missing something." 

"More than just one thing, I feel," Lindsey said, eyes focused on the distance, and Gerard followed her glance and saw Frank and Jamia talking, Frank's arms waving around like a crazy thing and Jamia's eyes wide and bright on him. 

Gerard didn't ask her what she meant, or anything else like that. He wasn't so insecure of Frank to be affected by something as base as jealousy. 

When he looked at Lindsey again, he found her already watching him, her eyes thoughtful. He pushed his worries away, trying to focus as much as he could on the positives of this day, indeed. 

"Come," he said, turning on his heel and barely waiting for Lindsey and Ray to follow. "There should be a small feast for this evening. It's not every day that we receive the gift of a new warrior. It should be celebrated."

He didn't let himself dwell on how well Frank and Jamia were matched, from their size to their coloring all the way to their expressions. He didn't let himself think at all.

That night at the dinner Gerard was determined to discover more about how Jamia had become the knight that she was.

She shrugged when he asked her, buttering her roll and stuffing it into her mouth. "I'm the youngest of six and the only girl. I've been defending myself with wooden swords since I could pick one up. All of my brothers wanted to be knights and spent hours training with each other, and since there was an odd number of boys, I was conscripted into duty." She took another bite of her roll, grinning a little as she swallowed. "And then I turned out to be better than all of them. So I presented for the king there in much the same way as I did here, only I fought one of my brothers who was already a knight and beat him."

"It was pretty amazing," Frank said, coming up to the table after having finished the last song. "My father didn't know what to do at first, but like I said, any woman who could take down Robert as convincingly as she did wasn't someone he would ignore."

Gerard tried to tamp down the desire, even stronger than usual, to kiss Frank in the middle of the hall, pull him close and then possibly down onto his lap, marking him clearly. 

"Well, that's at least one thing I've heard about your father that doesn't make me hate him," Gerard said, realizing after the words left his mouth that while that was something he could say in private to Frank, saying so in front of Jamia was less than wise. 

She just laughed though, nodding her head. "My thoughts are much like yours on the matter. There's a reason I came here, after all."

Gerard smiled a little, glad for the opportunity to redirect the conversation a bit. "And what is that, specifically? I know that we offer much to appeal to a knight, but it's rare we gain new members who fought for another king."

Jamia's face turned more serious, eyes cautious as she looked at Frank for a moment and then back at Gerard. "Well, I hadn't liked what he had done to Frank--both because I disagreed with him on the matters at hand, but also because banishing a son in such a way seemed wasteful, if nothing else. And when I heard that Frank was rumored to be here, and that Michael Pedicone had been sent here on a mission to show us what would be done to those who disagreed with the King, I knew I couldn't stay." She paused, taking a sip of her wine. "Luckily, while the King was willing to have a woman for a training knight, he had never made me swear my allegiance to him--after all, what other king would let a woman fight for him in battle? And so I decided to come and see whether Frank had managed to survive, and of course he had." She smiled, broad and happy. 

"I am truly a marvel," Frank agreed, putting his hands up in defense at Lindsey's look. "With some very helpful assistance from others, of course." He looked over at Gerard as he spoke, his face shifting into something close to a frown when he saw the expression on Gerard's face. 

Gerard attempted to do a better job of marshaling his thoughts and feelings, too aware of how transparent he must be at the moment. He didn't know if he wished that he liked Jamia less, didn't find her company just as delightful as her skill with a sword, or if he merely wanted Frank to somehow be less aware of her charms. Which was unfair, to all of them, but it was hard not to see how easy Frank was with her, like he was with few others. 

Lindsey seemed quite taken with Jamia as well, as did Ray, and even Mikey and Alicia. She was clearly going to be a wonderful addition to both the knights and to the court at large, and she had already delivered important information about the intentions of Frank's father. There was absolutely nothing to regret of her presence, or nothing that should matter, at the very least. 

And yet it was becoming harder and harder for Gerard to not be rude, and unwelcoming, and generally precisely who he never wanted to be--someone holding on tight rather than someone giving and granting freedom.

Luckily, before Gerard could say something truly offensive or regretful, Jamia solved his own problems. "I thank you for this meal, and for the welcome I've received, but I'm afraid the journey and then the incredibly easy combat has exhausted me. So I must retire."

"I can show you to your room, if you'd like," Lindsey offered, and Gerard was absurdly thankful that she spoke up first, certain that if she hadn't Frank would have volunteered. Which would have been fine, and more than appropriate, as two former members of a court that had shown itself to be unworthy of their loyalty. But Gerard was still glad. 

They waved goodbye to Lindsey and Jamia, the two of them already easy with each other, and Gerard was at least genuinely happy that they each had an ally, someone who could understand what the other was going through, in a way he couldn't hope to. 

He felt Frank's hand on his knee, and he turned back to him, ready to present an untroubled mind and soul. But he failed even at the start of such a performance, wilting at the look Frank was giving him. "Frank?"

Frank shook his head. "Not here? I'd rather have this conversation in the privacy of our rooms."

Gerard's insides froze, the way Frank said "our rooms" the only thing he could hold onto in that moment, the joint implication of the words thawing Gerard's fear just enough to allow him to stand and say his goodnights. 

The walk back up to Gerard's chambers was quiet and tense, Gerard unable to stop his mind for even a second. He couldn't bare the idea of having this conversation, but there was nothing to do to avoid it at all. Frank knew that Gerard was an idiot, a fool, a jealous buffoon, and he was about to be rightfully called out on it. 

Gerard attempted to ignore the part of his mind that clamored for attention, crying out that there was something far worse that was the much more likely topic of this conversation, that Frank clearly had found (or found again) someone who offered him a full life, an existence that even Gerard could not. And of his own kingdom, his people--

It was a minor miracle Gerard even made it to his chambers without collapsing from anxiety. 

Once they had made it to the chambers, Gerard careful to close and bolt the door before turning back to Frank, he had managed to convince himself that he could hear the words, hear Frank telling him that Gerard was no longer what he wanted. But when he turned to look at Frank and saw his beloved face, Gerard knew that he would beg, if he had to, would plead his case and do anything to keep Frank with him. 

Before Gerard could preemptively attempt to convince Frank, however, Frank pinned him to the door and kissed him, mouth hot against Gerard’s. 

“Frank?” he tried to ask once before giving up, kissing him back and holding him close, hand tight in Frank’s hair. 

“I should be offended,” Frank finally said, pulling away for a moment before diving back in for another kiss. Gerard had stopped trying to anticipate Frank’s next move and was just letting him take control, pulling him towards the bed. “Offended that you’d think my eye would be caught by someone new like that.”

“But she’s not new, Frank, you’ve known her for years,” Gerard said helplessly even while he knew he wasn’t helping his case. The look Frank gave him before leaning in and biting his ear made that clear. 

“Yes, I’ve known her for years, and I trust her, and I’m happy to see her again,” he whispered, breath hot against Gerard’s ear. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to throw you over for her.”

“But she’s so wonderful, Frank. And, well, a woman. A woman you could marry and who could give you children and the life you deserve,” Gerard said miserably.

Frank pulled away, his face incredulous. “Does Jamia really strike you as the sort of woman who’s just waiting to have babies?”

Gerard hadn’t really thought about it that way. “Well, no.”

Frank shook his head vehemently. “No, she is not. And if I asked for her hand in marriage she would laugh in my face. She’s not what I want, Gerard. You are.”

Gerard’s entire body felt warm, skin buzzing with nerves or happiness or something else altogether that Gerard couldn’t name. “I’m sorry I was jealous, Frank.” He leaned in and kissed Frank briefly, then went in for another, longer kiss, luxuriating in the feel of Frank’s mouth and lips. 

Frank finally pulled away again, hitting Gerard in the arm. “You’re one to talk, anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Gerard asked. 

“You spend half of your days with Lindsey and then talk about her for an hour every night. If I didn’t know better, I’d be suspicious myself,” Frank said, his words belied by the tiny grin tugging at his mouth. 

Gerard laughed at him. “That’s even more ridiculous, Frank, I assure you.”

“You can’t tell me she doesn’t like you, Gerard. God knows why, of course,” Frank said.

Gerard shook his head. “No, no. And besides, I couldn’t expect Lindsey to put up with me, she’s much too good for me.”

Frank grinned up at him. “What, and I’m not?”

“No, you are,” Gerard said quietly. “I’m just far too selfish to care.” And he met Frank halfway for another kiss. 

Frank kissed him back hotly, dragging his lips over Gerard's cheek to whisper in his ear. "Do you actually think that I could want anyone but you?" Gerard moaned at the words, clutching at Frank and pulling him closer still, moving them both to the bed. "I would no sooner go off with anyone else than I would allow you to pursue outside interests."

At Frank's words Gerard's desperation reached the boiling point, his hands clumsy and frantic as he attempted to get Frank's clothes undone as quickly as possible and laying him out on the bed. He could barely wait for Frank's skin to be in front of him, for his hands to be all over him, stroking from his chest and nipples down to his hips, tracing over the dip that lead straight to his cock. Gerard followed his hands' progress with his mouth, kissing and licking over his skin before finally arriving at the tip of Frank's cock, taking it in.

"Oh fuck," Frank gasped out. "Gerard, yes, this is for you." Gerard sucked harder in response, settled in the V between Frank's legs, Gerard's hands already reaching for the oil which Frank helpfully poured on his fingers. Once slick and ready, he pushed back Frank's legs to prepare his quickly, his fingers fast and perhaps just a touch too rough, although given the way Frank responded, his body opening quickly and easily for him, maybe Frank needed that just as badly as Gerard did.

He pulled off Frank's cock with a pop before moving up Frank's body, biting down on his neck before gasping into his ear. "I'm going to show you, Frank," he said, and Frank nodded his head frantically, already lifting his legs further and wrapping them around Gerard's hips. Gerard twisted his head around and kissed Frank as he withdrew his fingers and then thrust inside, the first stroke hard and complete. Frank groaned into his mouth, biting down on Gerard's lower lip before arching his head back. His hands raked down Gerard's back, scratching all over his skin, and Gerard had the fleeting thought that he wanted to be marked like that all the time, wanted it to be clear to everyone who he belonged to. 

Gerard drew his own nails up Frank's thighs and then slapped his ass as he fucked into him, wanting the same sort of claim to be obvious on Frank's body, and Frank writhed in response, his muscles contracting around Gerard. He was almost out of control beneath Gerard, his body flailing all over the place, making it hard for Gerard to get the right angle, and Gerard reached back and got his hands around Frank's wrists, pinning him to the bed. 

Frank's eyes glazed over at that, his body suddenly pliant and easy, legs still tight around Gerard's hips, and Gerard set an easy rhythm, thrusting in and out as he told Frank just how beautiful he was, how lovely and perfect and _his._ Frank whimpered back into his ear, his hands flexing above Gerard's grip, but he made no effort to be released, just took it and pulled Gerard in tighter until he finally came, cock spurting all over their stomachs from nothing more than being claimed. 

It wasn't much longer before Gerard followed him, kissing over Frank's face as he pulsed inside Frank's body, his seed releasing all over what was his. He pulled out of Frank gently, rolling over onto his back and pulling Frank with him. He held Frank close for a quarter of an hour, perhaps longer, until finally Frank looked up at him and his eyes were clear.

Frank leaned up for a kiss and then snuggled up under Gerard's arm, licking and then biting down lightly on Gerard's chest. "By the way, your jealousy was off-target on Jamia's behalf as well, you know."

Gerard kissed the top of Frank's head, dragging the tips of his fingers over Frank's sweat-damp back. "I wouldn't undervalue yourself, love."

Snorting, Frank looked up at Gerard. "You really didn't notice the affection between Jamia and Lindsey?" Gerard stared back at him dumbly. "Well, at least you're a better leader of men into battle than you are an interpreter of people's intentions."

"Are you sure?" Gerard asked.

Frank nodded against Gerard's chest. "If that's not why Lindsey offered to help Jamia to her rooms tonight, I will make myself a hat so I can eat it."

Gerard wasn't completely convinced by Frank's assertion, but when he saw Jamia and Lindsey talking on the field the following morning for training drills, their bodies turned towards one another and eyes bright and happy, he thought perhaps Frank had had a point.

It became clear after just a few drills that Lindsey’s prediction of the knights’ reaction to Jamia had been accurate. Many of them were eager to spar with her, Brendon and Spencer chief among them, but others were decidedly more standoffish towards her than they tended to be to new members. Gerard hadn't expected all of them to immediately adjust to a woman on the field with them, but he became more and more thankful that Jamia and Lindsey had known better than he what would help in this situation. 

He began working with her as well, asking her about the formations and other details of the guard she had just come from, slotting away the information she provided for the future. At the end of the day's work, he knew he needed to speak with Ray. 

"I think we should ask Jamia to join our next council," he said without preamble, stretching out his right shoulder as they walked back to the castle. 

"Any reason in particular?" Ray asked. There was no judgment in his question, no hesitation in his voice, and Gerard became grateful once again that his castellan was such a good man, in every way. 

Gerard released the stretch and pulled his left arm back into a different one. "We need to use her insights in as comprehensive a way as possible. Given her arrival and Michael's attack against Frank, plus Mikey's dreams, I fear that something much greater and much more difficult is coming our way. We have to use all of the resources available to us."

Ray nodded, scratching over the beard that was getting longer by the day. "Mikey's started to dream again, then?"

Gerard swung his arms around a bit more before letting them flop down by his sides. "He is. Nothing that's clear enough to act upon, but since he started taking the new infusion they've become more frequent and even more disturbing. I don't want more people than necessary to know about them--"

"--But those that do need to know, really do," Ray finished. There was a pause as they tromped down the hill together, boots thudding on the still-frozen hard packed earth. "Gerard, I don't want you to take this question the wrong way."

"Ray, nothing you ask could be offensive, I am sure," Gerard said, clasping Ray's shoulder. "What is it?"

Still Ray hesitated, and Gerard forced himself to not prod. "How do we know that Jamia isn't part of the evil Mikey is seeing in his dreams? I know Frank knows her, but we've seen before that old friends can be other than what we want to believe. And she may not be magic, but that doesn't mean she can't be a spy, or something even worse." Gerard frowned, deep in thought. "Gerard, you know I wouldn't ask unless I thought it was important."

Gerard put up his hand to try to forestall some of Ray's worry. "I know you wouldn't, and I don't blame you for the question. It is a valid one. And one I don't have a good answer for, beyond that nothing I have seen of her would suggest deceit, and just. Nothing about her feels wrong, or bad. And while that can't be enough, always, I also won't allow myself to become paranoid about every person I meet. She is more known to us than the vast majority of knights we take on, and I won't suspect her just because she is a woman, or because she once served a king who is plotting against us." Gerard stopped in his tracks and looked at Ray in the eyes. "I guess I believe her because I believe her, Ray. Is that foolish?"

Ray smiled down at his, his face fond and knowing. "No. It's simply you."

Gerard knocked into his shoulder a bit at that, but he couldn't keep the smile from spreading on his face in response. 

Gerard approached Jamia the following day to join them that afternoon, trying hard to not let his words trip over themselves. 

Luckily, Jamia put him out of his misery fairly quickly. "Lindsey had mentioned that there might be a council meeting of sorts that you would request my presence at. I of course would be pleased to aid you in whatever way I can."

Gerard laughed. "Oh she did, did she? Has she now become a Seer in addition to a sorcerer?"

Jamia shook her head, smiling wide. "I think she just knows you well enough to predict your next move, that's all."

"Well, isn't that a frightening thought," he said, trying to hide his pleasure at the idea. 

She shot him a knowing look. "I would think that your court magician being able to anticipate your every move would be considered a positive, Sire?"

Gerard had to give her that. 

The council met for only a hour that day, with rather little new information to share. Gerard was still uncomfortable with Mikey talking about his dreams with anyone other than him, but he knew he had to get used to it.

"Have the images grown clearer at all?" he asked, feeling like an insufferable nag. 

Mikey shook his head calmly. "No. The black mist is similar to that which attacked Frank, but I can't tell if that actually means something specific, or if it's just my brain's way of signifying 'here be bad magic.'"

"Your brain lacks subtlety," Frank said to Mikey, grinning, and Mikey pulled a face at him.

"I also still can't see who's being attacked, or if they're attacking it, or what. It makes my head hurt," Mikey said, rubbing over his forehead. Frank stood up then, all trace of levity gone from his face, and started to rub Mikey's temples.

Gerard nodded. "I can't decide which would be worse: either it's something so bad you can't actually see it clearly, or somehow they've figured out a way to prevent you from seeing it." He looked down at his fingers drumming against the table and then back up at Jamia. "Any idea of whether King Edward would be able to attack him like that? Or would know to?"

She frowned. "If he knew about Mikey's Sight, he certainly didn't tell anyone who let it spill to us. And that's the sort of information that's remarkably hard to keep quiet, once one person knows. I would guess that there's something about this Mikey just can't see yet."

"Has this ever happened before, Mikey?" Ray asked. 

Mikey nodded, Frank's hands stilling on his head. "There was a point a couple of years ago when they stopped being so clear, and so I just didn't pay any attention to them at all. Nothing seemed to come of them. It's possible we're dealing with a similar false alarm."

Gerard leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "That'd be quite the coincidence right now, though."

Mikey shrugged. "I agree, but it's still possible."

Gerard nodded. "Fair enough. At this point I think we need to continue to assume that there will be an attack as soon as the thaw begins and a campaign can reasonably be launched. Which gives us another four weeks, at the most, to prepare to defend against both magic and brute strength. Mikey, I want you to speak with Lindsey and me every morning about what you've dreamt the night before, no matter how fuzzy, and we'll see if we can find some sort of pattern. Ray and Jamia, I want you both to work with Lindsey on integrating the magical attack alongside the counters we're developing for their army. And Frank," he said, turning towards him. "I need to know everything you can think of about your father's potential approach. No detail is too small."

Frank smiled back at him, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Everything I know, Gerard. I promise."

Gerard turned back to the others. "We have some advantages here, but they came too close the last time with Frank, and I will not put this kingdom through a battle like last fall's again, if I can possibly avoid it. Thank you all."

That evening in his chambers, Gerard had an even greater need than usual to put his hands all over Frank, to feel him warm and solid against his body. He knew that they were preparing well, that this was a plan and a group well-organized and strong, but he still needed that physical reassurance.

"Hey," Frank said, pulling Gerard in against him. "I'm right here, okay? Not going anywhere."

"Show me?" Gerard asked, linking his hand through Frank's.

"Show you what?" Frank replied as he walked Gerard back to the bed. "Show you how much I need you, all the time? Or show you what I think about doing to you even while I'm playing for the entire court, my mind focused on you?"

"That would be good," Gerard gasped out as Frank began to undress him, slowly undoing each clasp of his shirt. 

"Or should I show you how much I want to be on my knees for you, taking you deep, letting you use my mouth and throat," Frank whispered against his ear, hands busy on the laces of Gerard's pants. 

"Oh god," Gerard moaned, and Frank kissed him then, kissed him dirty and slow, tongue exploring. 

"Let me take care of you," Frank said against his lips. "Let me make you not think, for once."

Gerard nodded, too overcome for words, and Frank slipped down his body and settled between Gerard's legs, getting his hand on Gerard's cock. "I fucking love doing this for you so much," he said before taking Gerard's cock into his mouth.

"I love it too, Frank," Gerard said desperately, thrusting up a little into the tight wet heat of Frank's mouth. He pulled off a moment and laughed, making Gerard whine. 

"I would fucking hope so, Gerard," Frank said, jacking Gerard's cock nice and slow. 

Gerard nodded his head, reaching out with his hand to pet over Frank's face. "I do, baby, I really really do, oh _fuck,_ " he gasped as Frank put his mouth back on him. Gerard let himself think about nothing but the sensation, the way Frank's mouth felt around him, licking and sucking and taking him in so deep. He thrust up, Frank's hands tight around his hips but just controlling his movements, not stopping them at all, and he gripped Frank's hair tight as he chased after his release. 

He came in waves, his hands petting over Frank's face as he twitched and shuddered into Frank's mouth, until he finally collapsed against his bed, panting. Frank finally pulled off of him after he had wrung every last drop from Gerard, climbing up the bed and shoving down his pants, cock hard and leaking against his stomach. 

"Can I fuck you, Gerard, please let me fuck you," Frank gasped out against his ear. Gerard nodded frantically, his body shaking at the idea of it. He turned onto his side to let Frank spoon up behind him, desperate to let Frank in. He felt Frank press up against him, slick fingers sliding inside of him and stretching, the sensation new and exhilarating.

He pulled his top leg up towards his chest with his bottom arm and got his other around Frank's shoulders, twisting towards him and pulling Frank in for a kiss. "Please, I can't wait, just fucking do it," he said, moaning as Frank withdrew his fingers. 

"Yes, _yes,_ " Frank panted, and then he was pressing inside Gerard, arm hooking around Gerard's thigh and holding him open. He felt so full, overwhelmed and owned, unlike anything he'd experienced before

"Yeah," Gerard said, voice breaking on the word as Frank started to fuck him harder, the drag of Frank's cock in his body exactly what he needed. He tightened his grip around Frank's back, holding him close. "Yeah, fuck, just like that."

"Oh god," Frank answered back. "I'm not gonna-- I'm not gonna last, Gerard."

"Just come on, Frank, fuck me," Gerard said, sweat already pouring down his torso, the sound of the wet slap of their bodies filling the room. 

"Gerard," Frank gasped, leaning in to kiss him as Frank pounded into Gerard, hips moving faster and faster. "I just, I _can't--_ "

Gerard kissed him again, biting down on his lower lip as Frank began to lose his rhythm, just thrusting until he suddenly stilled and Gerard felt him coming, cock pulsing inside of him. He kept kissing Frank even as he went soft and slipped out of Gerard's body, and Gerard turned in his arms, tugging him closer yet. 

"I love you," he said between kisses, "I love you so fucking much and I'm not letting anything happen to you or anyone you love."

Frank clutched him closer. "I won't let anyone come near you. I'll take them apart myself if I have to."

They fell asleep together like that, arms wound around each other's bodies. 

When they awoke the following morning, it was to the sound of explosions outside their window, the world still dark. 

They leaped out of bed, Gerard running to the door to call out for his guards to fetch Ryan, but Frank called out to him.

"Gerard, I don't think you're going to need your armor," he said in wonder, staring out the window down into the courtyard below. Gerard ran back over to him and looked down at the scene before them. 

Lindsey was locked in a battle with a dragon--a _dragon,_ for god's sake--and it was impossible for Gerard to tell at first who was winning. Massive bolts of light were shooting out from her hands, which the dragon was able to dodge, apart from the occasional hit to its scales. It retaliated with huge bursts of flames from his throat, some sort of invisible shield the only thing protecting Lindsey from being burnt to a crisp. 

His heart pounding, Gerard turned back to Frank. "I still have to get down there."

Frank nodded, already moving to retrieve their dressing gowns. "Put this on and I'll wake Mikey and Ray, if they're not already down there."

Gerard took his dressing gown from him and kissed him quickly, thumbing over his cheek. Then he hurried to make his way down to the courtyard.

By the time he arrived, the dragon was looking--strange, like it wasn't quite fully there, its attacks less and less aggressive. Lindsey looked like she had barely broken a sweat, easily blocking the dragon's efforts and countering before the dragon had even fully pulled back. 

"Come now, show your true self. You can't beat me in this form, and a dragon doesn't intimidate anyone here," Lindsey called out, her voice almost bored. "I may be a mere woman but even I can tell what you really are."

Suddenly the dragon disappeared in a large cloud of smoke before their very eyes, and a man emerged, robes long and black. Gerard reached for his sword, belated remembering that he was unarmed and far more exposed at the edge of the courtyard than he would like. He was beginning to wonder if he should still call for Ryan when Lindsey laughed. 

"See, this is probably how you should have begun," she said. "Not quite as impressive as Camelot being taken down by a magical dragon, though, is it? Pity that you didn't know what you were up against." She raised her hands out to her sides, both of them glowing bright. 

"How can you work with him?" the wizard spat, his face contorting in rage. "How could any sorcerer of your talent submit yourself to a man, to a kingdom that denigrates you and your art?"

Lindsey smiled, her face shining out in the light emanating from her hands. "Oh, you're quite out of date. Hasn't the news reached Mercia yet? This is not the Camelot of yore, I assure you. I am far more valued that you'll ever be, I'm afraid. For one thing, my king would never send me on a fool's errand to test the strength of a castle I know nothing about." Her hands flashed again once, twice, and the wizard was subsumed by light until he disappeared altogether with a loud pop. 

There was a moment of silence in the suddenly dark courtyard before the torches lining the square blazed bright again, and the wizard was on the ground at Lindsey's feet, hands and legs tied together in some way Gerard couldn't see. He looked to be unconscious. 

Gerard walked up to them, looking down at the wizard on the ground. "He didn't find what he thought he would, huh?"

Lindsey shook her head, prodding the man with her foot a bit. "He certainly wasn't expecting a sorcerer to be waiting for him. But I could feel him approaching the castle and was able to be here to meet him." She looked up at Gerard then, her mouth twisting into an amused smirk. "Nice outfit, Your Majesty."

Gerard pulled the robe together tightly with one hand. "Hey, most of us had no advanced warning." He looked around the courtyard, belatedly surprised at not seeing Frank or Mikey or Ray. He frowned. "Why hasn't anyone else come down yet?"

"Frank's up with Mikey and Alicia," Ray said from behind him, his voice out of breath. Gerard turned to stare. "Mikey's had another vision. It's bad, Gee." 

Gerard's mouth narrowed into a thin line. "Is he okay?" When Ray nodded, Gerard made up his mind. "We need to meet now. This can't be a coincidence. Go back and tell them to meet in the war room in a quarter of an hour." He glanced at the crowd beginning to fill the square but couldn't find Jamia anywhere. "Does anyone know where Jamia is?"

"Uh." Lindsey's face was just a touch pink in the lamplight. "I can get her."

Gerard smiled a little at that. "Do so. And meet us there." He tightened his belt around his waist. "This is a war council, now. Guards!" he called out, pointing back at the wizard. "Take this man away. Speak with Lindsey about how he'll need to be contained." And he swept out of the courtyard to find pants and meet his council. 

When he arrived in the room fifteen minutes later, all of them already seated around the table. Mikey looked pale, his eyes sunken and bleary, and Gerard walked straight up to him, sitting down next to him and cupping his cheeks. 

"You okay, Mikes?" he murmured, only a little reassured when Mikey nodded his head. Gerard dropped his hands down to his shoulders. "Can you tell us what you saw?"

Mikey shuddered, the movement so small Gerard wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't been touching him. "It was really bad, Gee. It was up on the hill, at dusk, and we were fighting so many of them. I couldn't--I couldn't see you any longer, and it felt like the one last summer, with Father--"

Gerard pulled him in, holding him close as Mikey breathed hard against his shoulder. "Okay. Well, we're going to be ready for it."

Mikey shook his head against his shoulder. "I don't know how we can be, Gerard."

Gerard closed his eyes. "We will. We'll figure it out."

"Mikey, could you see what Lindsey is doing, in the vision?" Frank asked from Gerard's right. His hand pressed up against Gerard's back, the heat welcome and known. 

Pulling away from Gerard, Mikey looked up at Frank. "Actually, no."

Frank nodded. "And see, that's weird, right? No way are we going to fighting a battle without her. And if the vision happened before she cut down that fake dragon, the vision might not have known she would be there."

Gerard frowned. "You think his Sight didn't see that happening?"

"Well, the future can be changed, right? Not everything always happens as you see it," Frank said, and Mikey nodded slowly, face thoughtful. "So what if that's what the black smoke visions were about, and the reason you couldn't see it was because you didn't know if she would win or lose?"

"Mikey, I am offended by your vision's lack of faith," Lindsey piped up, and Mikey cracked a small grin. 

"It's possible," he said softly. "I just. I wish I could see more."

Gerard rubbed over his brother's shoulders. "You see just as much as we need. Ray?" he asked, turning to his second-in-command. "We're going to need to start preparing the men to be ready every morning and night, if necessary. The wait is over."

* * *

Gerard had thought that the attack would come soon--tomorrow, or the day after, or by the end of the week at the very latest. But a full fortnight came and went with no new threat, either in Mikey's dreams or Lindsey's constant scanning of the distance for other sorcerers.

Everyone in the castle was on edge, the increased preparations taking over the town as well. Most mornings, Gerard awoke to Mikey shaking his shoulder and then crawling into bed with him and Frank, sometimes still holding Piglet in his arms. The vision had shifted a little--Lindsey was now present at times, which Gerard was privately cheered by. 

But Gerard still felt antsy, the distraction of sparring and leading his men in various formations unable to fully quell the nervous energy he had every day. And each night he needed Frank more and more, desperate to be grounded by his body and his presence, panting into his mouth as they came together again and again. 

He had to keep it together, had to maintain his focus without letting it drive him insane, or else the battle would be lost before it began. Jamia was actually the best of the knights at keeping him calm, coming to him each day with a new technique or method for him to learn by sight and then figure out how to counter. And he met with his council at their round table every night, expanding it to include the best of the knights in their plannings.

And still they waited.  

A week later, when the grass was no longer covered in frost each morning but rather dew, Mikey shook Gerard awake like usual.

But Gerard could tell from one look at his brother's face that this was no ordinary day. "It's happening, Gee. They're coming."

Wide awake now, Gerard sat up quickly against his headboard, Frank rising next to him. "What is it? Something new?"

Mikey nodded, his face excited in a way it hadn't been in months. This was something new indeed. "I can see them gathering, Gerard. They're still a full day's ride north, but they're going to stop overnight in the forest about a half a day's ride from here, and then approach with the sunrise. They'll be here tomorrow."

Gerard dragged his hand down over his face, thinking. "We've a lot to do today, then."

Frank hooked his hand through Gerard's arm. "We'll be ready."

Gerard glanced over at him, leaning in for a small kiss. "Of course we will be." He turned back to Mikey. "Anything else? Do you see a magician or anything like that?"

Mikey frowned. "I think so. More of a presence than a firm image, but. There's someone who feels warmer than they should be."

"That's his magician," Lindsey said later once they were dressed and around the war table. "No question. And while it's not a surprise, it does complicate our plans a bit."

"Surely you'll be able to take care of him?" Ray asked, not looking up from where he was studying the maps of terrain spread out over the table.

Lindsey snorted. "Of course I can, but magic means they may know more of our plans, much like we know more of theirs. We can't rely upon them not knowing we know they're coming for us."

"It's like a riddle," Frank muttered into Gerard's ear, and he smiled slightly, letting his words calm him as intended. 

"Lindsey's right. I doubt very much that Frank's father has sent them here without assuming that we have some unusual weapons on our side," Jamia said. "But that still gives us more information. They know we have magic and they're coming anyway. What could they be counting on, if not the element of surprise?" 

Gerard frowned. "You don't think he's just overconfident?"

"Well, on the one hand he must be," Frank said, leaning against Gerard's arm. "He's still staged an attack even after two smaller volleys failed to produce a good result for him." Frank pushed back, his face suddenly sober. "But on the other hand, that may just be a sign that he's not thinking rationally about this. He may not be coming with strength at all. This could be a suicide run for his men."

"Jamia, how loyal are his knights, at this point? Could they be swayed to throw down their arms if they're outmatched, or will they fight until the end?" Gerard asked, his mind whirling. 

She hesitated, looking down at her hands for a moment before focusing on his face. "I think that if the knights feel that the battle is lost, a great number of them will surrender. And some would be interested in swearing allegiance to you."

"What would need to happen for them to respond so?" Again she hesitated. "Jamia. Tell me."

She nodded, her eyes knowing. "If he were killed, they would break in less than half an hour. It would be a matter of minutes."

Gerard closed his eyes, nodding at the confirmation of what he knew in his heart to be true. He opened his eyes and turned to Frank, ready to say something--

"You can't think I didn't know this, Gerard," Frank said, his face calm but pain clear in his eyes. "I've know what this fight would entail for a long time."

Gerard shook his head. "It was never my intention--"

"Are you riding with an army to attack my kingdom?" Gerard shook his head, struck mute at the ferocious look in Frank's eyes, the rage trying to break free he heard in his voice. "Then don't apologize to me, Gerard. You didn't banish me or attack others or try to kill me. I will happily see my former home become a part of your kingdom."

Gerard opened his mouth at that, unable to let such a misconception stand, but Ray beat him to it. "We don't have time for this now. We need to position ourselves, send out the scouts and prepare for a long fight. Mikey, you said that the fight usually takes place at dusk?" He continued at the barest hint of a nod from Mikey. "Well, we don't know which dusk, if we'll be fighting for a day or a week. We have to get out there, Gerard."

Gerard stood up, knowing the truth of Ray's words. "We will make camp outside of the castle. I want a skeleton crew left behind to guard the gates and all townspeople should remain inside, as far away from the walls as possible. That includes you, Frank," he said, turning to him. 

Frank shook his head at him, mouth set. "I will not stay behind with the children and women--"

"Only some of the women, Frank," Jamia helpfully added.

"--While all of you risk your lives to protect me. I won't do it," stated Frank, voice rising as he slammed his fist down on the table.

"Frank, you're not trained--"

"Then I will bandage the wounded, or support Lindsey, or shadow Ryan. I won't be swayed from this, Gerard. I will be out there with all of you," Frank said simply, his words final. 

There was a pause in the room, and Mikey coughed. "Gerard, I should be out there too--"

" _No,_ " Gerard said vehemently, unwilling to lose both of these arguments. 

"Gerard." Mikey came up to him, eyes serious. "I need to be there in case I see something."

"How can you hope to see something, you won't be asleep," Gerard said, grasping for anything.

"Mikey and I will watch out for each other, how about that," Frank said, smiling a little, but Gerard was unwilling to be reassured so easily.

"Or I could protect them like a sheepdog, herding them from the danger," Jamia said, face deadpan.

Gerard knew when he was beaten. "Both of you will be there, fine," he said, holding his hands up in defeat. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

When he was in his tent that night, however, with Frank curled up into his side, breath soft against his collarbone, he realized that this was one advantage to his presence that he wouldn't want to give up.

They had camped on one side of the river, the forest Mikey had Seen the opposing army gathering in across from them. They were not so far away that they could hope the other forces were unaware of their presence, regardless of whether they had a Seer or not, but they had the advantage of the lay of the land, with a hill behind them and ample locations for archers to hide during the battle. Gerard knew they were well-positioned, and he tried to get some sleep, knowing his body would thank him for it in the morning, but his mind would not quiet. 

Frank snuffled against his chest. "Go to sleep, Gerard."

Gerard held him tighter, squeezing his body. "Can't. Never can, the night before a battle. And this day even more than most."

Frank was quiet for a moment. "What troubles you?"

Gerard shook his head, brushing Frank's hair aside and kissing his forehead. "I'm not troubled, exactly."

"What then?"

He tried to put it into words. "I've led these men before. I know they are well-trained, and loyal, and prepared for the horror and brutality of battle. Many of them were with me last autumn, when my father fell." He blew out a breath. "But for the first time, I'm more than just their leader in war."

"You're their king," Frank finished, chest vibrating against Gerard's with the words. 

Gerard nodded. "It's not that it means more, or that I was somehow unimportant before, but now I fight for everything."

"And they'll fight for you," Frank said. "You'll be their leader, and any of them would take an arrow or the cut of the sword for you. And you have to let them." 

Gerard stared up at the top of the tent. "I can't like that."

"But you know it's true."

"I do." Gerard rolled over onto his side, facing Frank and looking over his face, dimly lit by the single torch in the tent. "And then there's you."

"What about me?" Frank asked, but his casual question couldn't hide the tension in his voice. 

"You know what I must attempt to do tomorrow. It can't--"

"If I could kill him myself, have Lindsey magic me so that no one could see me as I slipped a knife under his ribs, I would, and happily," Frank said quietly. "I have no reservations about my desired outcome for tomorrow, Gerard. I haven't for a long time."

Gerard stared at him, heart pounding. "Frank."

"It wouldn't be so easy, I admit, if he hadn't tried to kill me first, and then attacked my new home once and again now," Frank continued, voice barely betraying his emotions. "But none of that would have mattered so much if I hadn't seen first hand how a ruler who truly cares treats his people behaves. You are the kind of king I would have wanted to be, had I had the chance, but given how my life has played out, I will happily support you and this kingdom."

Gerard kissed him then, couldn't have stopped himself if he had tried, and Frank opened up to him immediately. Gerard tried to tell Frank all that he wanted for him in that kiss, his hips moving against Frank's, cock hard and full already. He pulled them closer together, holding Frank close as they ground against each other.

He wanted to memorize how it felt, the way Frank sounded in his ears, the softness of Frank's side in the strip between his ribs and his hipbone. Gerard's fingers traced along the dip to his belly, and then he had to hitch Frank's leg up over his, the friction between their bodies delicious and just enough.

"Oh, Frank," he whispered, interrupting the sounds of their shared breaths for just a moment before leaning in to kiss him once more. He could feel his urgency growing, their bodies moving as one, Frank's ankle hooked around his as they each chased their release. 

He could feel it in the moment before Frank spilled between them, the way his entire torso contracted against Gerard's, and he bit down on Frank's lip as he followed him over, hands shaking as he tried to hold him through it. Frank had both hands on Gerard's face, keeping him there as he kissed him over and over again, and every time Frank tried to pull away even a little Gerard chased him down, capturing his lips again.   

Gerard was finally able to fall asleep, but he barely felt like he slept at all before Ryan was gently shaking him awake. 

“Sire, it’s time.”

He looked back down at Frank to find him staring up at him, wide awake. A thousand different words flashed through Gerard’s mind, all of the things he should tell Frank in this moment, but before he could even choose what he wanted to say it was too late. Frank pushed himself up to kiss Gerard briefly, eyes calm.

“I’ll be here with Mikey.”

Gerard nodded, his throat full, and behind him Ryan cleared his throat.

“Your Majesty.”

Gerard nodded then, pulling away from Frank, his eyes tracing over Frank's face until he had to turn to follow Ryan. It took him longer than usual to fall into his battle-ready frame of mind, Ryan lacing him up in his leathers before getting his mail on. But by the time he was fully dressed, his focus was no longer on Frank and the warmth and comfort of his bed, or at least not directly. It was on the battle ahead, on the message he needed to impart to his men and women in the pitch black before the fight began. He thought only of how he could ensure that he had many more mornings like this, looking at Frank across a pillow.

He opened the flap to the tent, unsurprised to find Ray waiting for him there. The night air was cold and biting, still early enough in the season for their breath to show, but he knew that by midday the sun would feel unbearable, the sweat and mud of battle hot and oppressive. They marched over together to his knights, their knights, and he faced them, his body calm and primed for this moment. 

"This morning is not the first time we have ridden into battle together," he said, looking them over, all of their faces glowing in the light from the torches. "Last autumn tested us, but we held strong, and we must do no less today." He smiled then, watching as they responded to him."Today we have new skills and weapons," he continued, inclining his head towards Lindsey and then Jamia, their bearing on the field regal and confident. "But this new foe is not one to be taken lightly. We know this won't be easy. It will demand our bravery and daring, and our best efforts in all ways, to defeat this intruder and protect Camelot. There is little more that I can ask of you than this."

He paused then, his heart full as he gazed over these men, many of whom he had known for what felt like his entire life. He took a final deep breath. "We shall rise together today. We will meet this foe head on, and not allow them to terrorize us in the middle of the night, or send spies into our midst. And when we are done, when the dust has settled and the field is quiet once more, we will be victorious," he declared, the passion thick in his voice.

The silence that surrounded his final words was full and heavy, but he knew they had heard him, understood what was at stake. And they understood what he asked of them, and what he promised in return. 

When he was about to give the orders for them to move into their defenses of the river and beyond, one voice piped up. "Your Majesty, we ride with you with pride and honor, and we will lay down our lives for you, and for Camelot." It was Brendon, of course, his voice clear in the silence. Gerard nodded back at him, already slipping away from his daily self and turning into the warrior always present under the surface. 

"And I for you."

He did turn to Ray then, his castellan as always at his right side, and in the end it was Ray who gave the command, setting into motion their plan of action. They remained about thirty feet from the edge of the river, the land gently sloping down into the banks. It was almost full dark still, the night sky just beginning to brighten on the horizon, but Gerard could feel the pull of day coming. And he could sense the presence of another mass of men and horses, just beyond his sight. 

He saddled up and made his way over to Lindsey, already astride her horse. "Well?" he asked her, nodding at the trio of knights surrounding her, the guard present to ensure no attack could be made against her while she worked to counter their magic.

"He's definitely stronger than the last magician they sent here, but I don't sense a power within him that I can't handle. It's going to take a lot more, though," she admitted. She looked at Gerard directly. "I've been trying to learn where their king is, but I can't feel him specifically yet."

Gerard clasped her shoulder with his hand, squeezing gently. "It is of no matter. We won't have to wonder long. His actions are not those of a man who is reluctant for people to see him."

The sky had lightened even while they talked, the scope of the world he could see expanding out beyond the river to the far bank across it. Through the midst that rose up from the earth, he could see the army congregating on the other side, the banners and standard bearers. And in the middle of this mass was a man who rode taller than all else, his crown still gleaming on his head, out of place in this setting of war. 

King Edward.

Gerard wheeled around his horse, tapping down his helmet. His horse and his armor bore the crest of his family, of his house, but beyond all else he was a warrior king, and his appearance bore that out.

He returned to the center, surrounded by his best men, Ray leading the left flank, Lindsey to the right, and Jamia in front of him, leading the fight. Gerard raised his sword and pitched his voice to carry across the river. "We do not ask for this battle. You have brought it upon yourself by attacking a kingdom to which you have no claim. Turn around now, and spare your men the bloodshed that will occur today," he commanded, voice ringing out in the air.

The only response he received was laughter, and the sound of a horn breaking through the morning stillness. 

The battle began. 

The opposing army charged, needing to ford the river to meet the Camelot forces, but this was no easy crossing. The banks sloped down sharply two feet in, dropping off into much deeper waters than anyone studying maps with no direct knowledge of the peculiarities of this land would guess. Gerard watched as knight after knight fell in, horses breaking their legs as they dropped down. It was a gruesome beginning, the screams of the horses and the shouts of the men crying out over the morning. 

Gerard and his knights waited, watching as it happened. When there were finally enough bodies in the water that other knights could cross over them, blood already turning the river red, Gerard raised his right hand, and then brought it back down.

Moments later the first volley of arrows flew through the air and struck the next line of knights, still barely past the river itself. The attack on the front line of their foe made it impossible for them to use their superior numbers to their advantage for the time being, the glut of bodies and dying men preventing the movement across. Thus far this battle was a horrifying spectacle of war, rather than a fight that had occasion for glory, for triumph or bravery. 

The first men were soon able to break free of this carnage launched from afar, however, and they charged forward with all the courage Jamia had told him to anticipate from this foe. His men prepared with spears facing the attackers, but some of them still broke through, able to engage in swordplay at last.

And now it truly began. 

It became difficult to separate out one moment from another from that point on, Gerard focusing on every individual man he faced, taking each down methodically. He felt the battle rage building in his belly, but he quashed it, kept his attention outward at the fight as it stormed on. He was aware that there were always knights around him, cutting down attacks that came from behind while he was otherwise engaged or on his blind side when he was in the midst of slashing through another man's chest, his charger swiftly moving him out of danger. And he relied upon each of them to tell him how went the rest of the battle. 

"To the right, Spencer?" he called out after disarming and then dispatching a knight who could have been no more than fifteen. 

"They hold, Sire," he shouted back, knocking a knight from his mount with a flat stroke of his sword. "Lindsey has not broken through the magician's efforts, but neither has he touched her at all."

"And to the left?"

Brendon answered him after defending himself from two knights at once, barely regaining his seat after being knocked off-balanced by a blow to his shield. "Ray and his men haven't been broken, either. The line seems strong, with the archers continuing over the top."

His need for knowledge sated, he focused back on the mass still pouring over the river towards them. 

As the fight went on, the sun sliding up over the trees and then fully on them, Gerard fell into a battle trance, not knowing where he stopped and his sword began, his entire being caught up in only what was directly in front of him. He knew that men were falling around him, but he couldn't spare the focus to see much, or to mourn. It was hard to miss when Spencer took a bad hit, the blood pouring out of his arm, however.

"Brendon, get him out of here, he can't do much more like that!" he cried out, chopping down the man who made the contact, iron biting through leather. But as soon as they were gone there were two more knights at either side of him, continuing to offer protection and provide information about the other fronts. 

He could feel it when Lindsey began to take ground to the right, rather than just protect what they had; he could see the way Jamia jumped on the room it opened up, able to force more of the knights charging them to take risks that ended poorly for them, most of the time. He had the stray thought that it was a shame he couldn't just watch her, observe how she took down those who opposed her without hesitation, even though she must know many of those she killed or maimed. 

The sun's weak heat in the early spring was still enough to make him grateful to the leathers he had on under the armor, but it was still slippery, messy work, his horse's footing getting less and less sure in the gore below. He knew her exceptionally well though, able to work with her, adjusting minutely as she stumbled a little and then stabilized again just in time for him to cut through yet another boy too young to be out here at all. But slowly, beat by beat, he could sense the turning tide of this battle, the way each of the attacks seemed to be less and less coordinated, the space that was created with each knight dispatched.

"What do you think, Sire?" someone shouted, and he glanced over for a moment to see Brendon back at his side. 

"How's Spencer?" he responded. That would be a great loss to their defenses, if the wound was beyond that which could be healed off the battleground.

"Should be fine, I think--Frank patched him up back at the camp," Brendon answered while casually parrying an awkward approach and then thrusting home with his sword. Gerard nodded, relieved and not letting himself think too long about how secure he and Mikey were, beyond the hill. 

Suddenly a cheer erupted to their right, and all the knights turned as one to see what had happened.

The image made Gerard's heart catch in his throat: Lindsey standing with her arms outstretched, a man on his knees in front of her, face wide and frightened. "You cannot win this," she said, her voice booming out over the entire valley. "Yield to me now, and I will spare your life, wizard. It is your choice."

The man hesitated for a moment, and then bowed his head, clearly ready to accept her offer. But before he could say a word, a horse charged up from behind him. When the wizard looked up, it was to see his own king for a split second before King Edward's sword swung through the air, taking off his head. 

There was a white rush in Gerard's ears at the sight, the appalling refusal to honor another's surrender, the cowardice of it all. Gerard kicked his horse in his haste to make his way over to the craven king, the knights on both sides falling back to let him through.

"Edward, you have shamed yourself and your people by this act. Surrender now, and regain at least some of your lost honor," Gerard shouted, sword dripping with the blood of men held at the ready. 

King Edward laughed at him, the sound ugly amid the screams of men in pain and the continuing clangs and clatters of swords and shields. "The only honor for me will come when your head is on my sword, much like that pathetic excuse of a wizard," he spat back, wheeling his horse around to face Gerard properly. 

"If you fought my sorcerer, you would lose in a matter of seconds," Gerard responded. "I would not make a king, however far fallen, fight in such a way. But I will challenge you myself."

"And you shall lose, and be spared the pain of seeing what will be done to your kingdom, then," King Edward countered. 

Gerard glanced down at Lindsey then. "Containment, not force," he said, and she nodded, understanding. He turned his focus back to King Edward, confident that between Lindsey, Jamia and Ray, the remaining bloodshed would be kept to a minimum. "I am ready."

Without any other reply, King Edward swung his sword around, making hard contact with Gerard's shield before coming around with his shield to slam Gerard full in his side. Gerard moved with it, immediately using the momentum to come back around and counter, his steed steady and confident. The battle continued thusly, King Edward attacking with huge bursts of strength and speed and Gerard mitigating the impact before countering again, preserving his energy. 

Gerard had no idea how his son was so small, for Frank's father was a beast of a man, tall and broad, and he played to those strengths. But Gerard had the superior charger and an agility that countered the advantage of size that King Edward possessed, and Gerard knew he could outlast him if it came down to endurance and stamina.

However, King Edward knew this too, his fierce attacks becoming harder and harder for Gerard to fully block, and he got the first hit in, biting into Gerard's bad shoulder with a slice that Gerard was unable to completely evade. He pulled back a little to regroup for a moment but had only seconds before King Edward followed to attack, and in desperation Gerard attempted one of the moves he and Jamia had played with for fun when she first came to Camelot. He wheeled his horse around as sharply as he could, trying to get under King Edward's arm, and managed to get in close enough to stab King Edward through the belly.

He ripped the sword back out, twisting a bit with little regret for the pain it must have caused, and he watched as King Edward slumped back in the seat of his horse, barely able to stay upright at all. 

Blood pounded in Gerard's head, his latent anger at this man for what he had attempted to do to his kingdom, what he _had_ done to Frank, rising up in the end. "You have wasted your life, the lives of those who have died here today, and you threw away your own kin, a man better than you could ever deserve to have as a son." His focus narrowed down until all he knew was this moment in time, this final blow he must deliver. "I would let you live had I any hope you would value the gift. May God have mercy on your soul." And Gerard swung back near King Edward's horse and thrust his sword in through the king's heart, watching as the body fell from the horse when he pulled out his sword. 

He stared down at his godless body for what felt like hours, unaware of anything else around him until Brendon was suddenly at his side. "Your Majesty, we need to have someone look at your arm."

"Have we called for a surrender?" Gerard asked instead, looking up and around at the battleground, at the sudden stillness that surrounded him.

Brendon nodded. "We have, and achieved it the moment he fell, Sire. It is won."

Gerard turned to his left, still trying to comprehend the idea of it being over, of there being nothing more to do in this moment, and he saw Ray trudging towards him. His helmet was long gone, hair free and tangled around his blood-streaked face, but he seemed to be unharmed. But he couldn't stop himself from dismounting finally and patting over Ray's chest, confirming that he was whole and undamaged.

Ray watched patiently as Gerard checked him over in the most basic of fashions, face kind. "I'm fine, Gerard, I promise you. But we need to get that arm looked at."

Gerard shook his head. "It's just a scratch, I'm telling you." Now that the adrenaline no longer needed to serve its purpose of keeping Gerard alive, he felt jittery and anxious, disbelieving of everything in front of him. "I must speak to my men."

"Then speak to them fast, because otherwise I'm going to drag you back up to Frank and Mikey myself," Lindsey said from behind him. He whirled around to see her standing there, her exhaustion showing in her face and body.

"Are they still up above? They haven't come down, have they?" He didn't seem to be able to make himself focus on anything.

"Gerard." He looked up at Jamia, her mount lathered up and filthy. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, the first time he had ever seen it down. He thought absently that it must have come out of the tight plaits she pulled it back in most of the time, and he wondered if it had been used against her until he thought that perhaps she had taken it out herself. "If you're going to address the knights on the field, you should do so now, so we can get you back to the castle. They need to see you there as well."

He nodded at that, hearing the truth in her words. "Yes, I. I will do that now." He strode down closer to the banks, eyes finally able to fully see the carnage there. And then he turned to address all of the soldiers there, his and those of King Edward.

"This fight is done," he began, feeling the strength beginning to return to him as he spoke. "There is nothing left to come to blows over. I did not offer surrender and absolution lightly; I invite any of you who would swear an oath of fealty to me and Camelot to do so. I will not punish or imprison you for not doing so, but be warned: if any of you band together to attempt to succeed where others have failed today, I will not be so generous." He paused then, feeling a little light-headed, but managed to continue on. "This is a time of rebuilding, of bringing together these two lands so this conflict does not continue to distract from the more pressing concerns of each of the lands. That is my main concern, and always will be."

He looked down at his hands, studied the blood on them for a moment before looking back up at those gathered near him. Gerard saw many of King Edward's former knights taking stock of his statements, trying to decide if they could trust him. He had already won over some of them, he could see, but it was unclear how overall successful he was going to be.

It began to gnaw at him, this fear that perhaps this was just one more battle in a string with this foe, an endless parade of dead men marching to their collective doom for no reason beyond a king's greed and lack of caring. His head, already fuzzy from battle, began to pound, and he wondered if the world was swaying or if that was just him.

Before he could discover just how hard the ground still was so soon after winter's end, he heard his name being called from off to his left. He turned, and something in his chest finally released at the sight of Frank making his way down to him on foot, Mikey a few paces behind.

"Frank! Mikey!" he called out, lifting his sword hand to greet them. The pain that flooded through his muscles at the movement shocked him, but he gritted his teeth and stayed put.

From the look on Frank's face, his wince had not been as subtle as he intended. "Lindsey said that you were being stubborn about an injury. 'Just a scratch'? Gerard, you're still bleeding," he said, carefully laying his hand just under Gerard's wound, not touching it.

Gerard couldn't have focused on his injury if he tried, not with Frank here again. "It'll be fine, I needed to speak to the men first," he protested. He vaguely thought that kissing Frank would be a lovely thing to do, but he couldn't quite seem to get his body to move in the necessary direction.

Frank shook his head. "Well, you've said what you needed, and now it is time--"

"Your Majesty?"

Gerard turned to see what his knight needed of him, but it was one of King Edward's former knights. And the man wasn't looking at him at all. He was staring at Frank, eyes wide.

"What?" said Frank dumbly, his face blank, but there was a tremor in his hand that Gerard had never seen before.

The knight's face lit up. "I knew it was you! I knew you could not be dead, no matter what your father said." And before his anger at those words could fully rise up in Gerard's body, the man dropped to one knee, head bowed. "Sire."

"I'm not." Frank stopped, seemingly unable to form any coherent statement. Gerard touched his elbow gently.

"I think the people think you are," he said, gesturing out at the growing number of men who had turned to Frank, not Gerard (or perhaps not only Gerard) and were showing their respect. He swallowed hard against the emotion at seeing everyone recognize Frank for being who he really was, his head light.

He could distantly hear Frank saying, "But I was _banished,_ " his voice faint, and a chant began to rise up in the crowd.

"Long live King William!"

Gerard blinked, shaking his head a bit at the name King _William,_ and he was about to ask Frank about this William person when the loss of blood finally caught up to him, and he toppled over into the mud in a dead faint.

When Gerard came to, he found himself in his own bed, a tight bandage wrapped around his upper right arm but otherwise bare. He blinked up at Frank, whose expression shifted from one of concern to exasperation as soon as he realized Gerard was awake. 

Frank crossed his arms over his chest. "Was it really necessary for you to wait until you were unconscious to leave the battlefield? It caused quite an uproar, you know."

Gerard attempted to push himself up into a sitting position, but Frank placed a hand on his chest, keeping him prone. And given how much effort it felt like it would require to win against Frank, perhaps not moving was the better plan anyway. 

"I didn't mean to, Frank. I just didn't realize how bad it was, I guess," Gerard said, glancing over at the rather impressive looking bandage covering most of his arm and shoulder. 

"Yes, I can understand how what Lindsey told you was somehow unclear. She does tend to be rather indirect," Frank said, a small smile creeping in at the edge of his mouth. 

Gerard huffed a little. "I promise that the next time I'm injured in battle I won't wait, how about that," he said, startled when Frank's smile disappeared at the words. "What?"

Frank looked down at the bed, hands restlessly stroking over the blankets piled up over Gerard's lower body. "I'd really rather that you didn't get injured at all."

Gerard pulled him closer at that with his good arm, getting Frank's head pillowed on his shoulder. "I'll do my best." They laid there in silence for a few moments, Gerard dragging his fingertips lazily over Frank's upper arm, and then he spoke again. "What happened out there with the knights after I collapsed?"

"You mean fainted," Frank said, and Gerard waved his good hand in the air in acquiescence. Frank sighed. "They dispersed, most of them coming back here, but not all. And we've begun to retrieve the bodies, preparing them for burial."

Hugging Frank closer, Gerard thought carefully about his next words. "I meant to ask more about how they responded to you." Frank stiffened against him, and Gerard turned towards him, looking at his face. "What's wrong?"

Frank shook his head. "I don't--I don't know how to be the king they want of me anymore. I don't even know if I _can_ be their king. Or what happened to the line of succession, or how any of this happens. It was never my intention that this result from this fight, Gerard."

Gerard leaned in and kissed him gently, relieved at how Frank at least relaxed a little in response to the touch. He pulled away finally, tracing over Frank's face with his eyes. "Frank, someone would have to step in, and to be honest, the people couldn't hope for better than you." He continued on before Frank had a chance to interrupt him. "I don't just mean that you'll be a fair king and a good ruler, although I know both of those to be true. But if you don't step in, what is the alternative? Another bloody battle, this time over who shall rule there? Why would you want that for your people, rather than taking on the role you were born for?"

Frank shook his head. "I just assumed that you would take it. I thought that's what you should do. It never occurred to me that they would want me back, Gerard."

Gerard rested his head back on the pillow. "I have no objection to sharing it with you, Frank, if you'll do the same for Camelot."

Frank was quiet for a moment, but when he looked up at Gerard again his eyes were filled with an emotion Gerard could hardly believe. "Marriage is the traditional method of joining together two kingdoms," he said softly, the hope in his voice shining through each word.

Gerard kissed him. 

He pulled Frank in closer to him, bringing his right arm around to hold him tight. Gerard broke the kiss to gasp at the pain that shot through his arm, but it was just a momentary pause for him, nothing worth worrying about.

Not so for Frank, apparently, who moved away, face concerned. "Gerard, you are injured. This isn't going to work."

Gerard shook his head, leaning up towards Frank. He felt giddy and overwhelmed, the pain in his arm receding into the background in the face of all the joy bubbling up inside of him. "I'll be fine."

"Gerard, I really think--"

" _Frank._ " Apparently the need that Gerard felt finally broke through to Frank, because his face softened, eyes full of love as he looked Gerard over. Gerard squeezed around Frank's side, trying to feel under Frank's tunic one-handed, which was more than he was capable of at the moment. 

Frank finally leaned in and kissed Gerard again. "This will only work if you don't push yourself," he mumbled against Gerard's lips, and Gerard carefully lifted his arm and sank his fingers into Frank's hair, holding him there. "So don't be foolish."

Gerard nodded his head and made little sounds of agreement against Frank's mouth, his body already desperate for more contact, more of everything. When Frank pulled away he groaned, entire body tensing up and then relaxing as he remembered Frank's words. He made himself wait, hands twitching to touch Frank as he shed his clothes efficiently. Somehow he contented himself with simply looking over Frank's body, the lithe lines of his back as he bent over the bed to throw his clothes to the floor, the curve of his thighs flexing as he turned back to Gerard and straddled his legs. 

Not able to hold back any longer, Gerard reached out with his good arm and ran his hand down Frank's chest and belly, feeling over the soft skin there. Frank's cock was already hard, beautiful and thick against his stomach, and Gerard brushed his fingers over it, relishing the way Frank's eyes slipped shut at the contact. 

"Come here," Gerard murmured, needing Frank's body up against his, but Frank shook his head, reaching over to the table where the pot of oil sat, the muscles in his torso thrown into high relief in the effort. Frank stayed up on his knees, eyes steady on Gerard's as he reached behind himself, oil dripping down his fingers. Gerard watched the motion of his arm, could imagine what Frank was doing, what it looked like as he prepared himself for Gerard, and he began to stroke Frank's cock as he worked, flicking his thumb over the head, leaking already. 

Frank gasped, tipping his head back, the long line of his throat beautiful in the dim light of the room, and Gerard had to sit up at that, had to get his mouth there. It was worth it even when Frank chastised him. "Gerard, you need to lie down."

"I can sit up, please, I'll lean back against the headboard," Gerard said, pushing himself back so that he was supported against the bed. He held out his left arm to Frank. "Please?"

When Frank finally sank down onto Gerard's cock, his body hot and tight around him, Gerard thought he was losing his mind, the relief and joy and pleasure almost incomprehensible after the stress and horror of the day and weeks prior. He gasped into Frank's mouth, his left arm tight around Frank's lower back as he rode Gerard, hand gripping Frank's hip. Their bodies slid against each other, sweat dripping down their skin, and Gerard had to use every last bit of his self-control to not use his right arm to hold him still and thrust up into Frank. But he let Frank do the work, let him rise and fall above him, his voice ringing out every time he took Gerard completely into his body. 

Frank had one hand tight in Gerard's hair, tugging his head back so he could kiss him, and the other was stroking his cock fast, knuckles brushing against Gerard's stomach. Gerard could feel it as he got closer, the way Frank's hand gripping his hair tensed harder, and Gerard supported him with his arm on Frank's hip as much as possible, his own release drawing nearer and nearer. He moaned around Frank's tongue, his hips flexing up against Frank without his permission as he finally crested and came, his legs shaking as he pulsed upwards. 

Pulling away, mouth hot and sticky against Gerard's cheek, Frank whined as he came against Gerard's stomach, body clenching around Gerard. Frank slumped down against Gerard, and they turned together, sliding down until they were on their sides, both still panting as Frank slipped off Gerard's cock. 

Frank lifted his hand up, tracing right under the line of Gerard's bandage, his fingers sparking off Gerard's skin still. Gerard shivered and shuffled closer still towards him, dipping his head down for one more kiss. 

It was only when he was pulling away from Frank's mouth that he remembered a question he had had earlier in the day. "William?"

Frank groaned and rolled over onto his back. "William Francis Geoffrey Beaufort, to be precise."

Gerard could barely contain his glee. "You told me your name was really Frank!"

"It is!" Frank protested, but at Gerard's doubtful glance he amended, "It's just not my only name, that's all." 

"Well, I think it's adorable," Gerard said, carefully moving his arm so that it was around Frank's waist. 

"It is not, King Arthur," Frank retorted.

"Hey," Gerard said, his eyes barely open. "Arthur is a perfectly lovely name."

"You keep telling yourself that," said Frank, but Gerard heard him only in his dreams.

* * *

When they met the following day in the war room, Gerard was brought back sharply to the realities of the battle.

"We lost dozens of men, but the other side's casualties numbered well into the hundreds," Ray said, his face somber. "It will make rebuilding a challenge, as well as preparing our defenses against outside forces who might think to take advantage of our momentary weakness."

Gerard looked over at Frank, who was silent as he looked down at the table, worrying his lip with his teeth. "We will need to first commemorate those that both sides lost, I think. Frank?" he asked, and when Frank looked up at him, his eyes sad but clear, it lifted his heart a little. 

"I will speak to my men. And then I think I need to return back home for at least a fortnight, to help restore the peace," Frank said, turning to Ray, then Lindsey, and finally Jamia as he spoke. "Uniting the kingdoms is not going to be an easy task."

"But I trust that you're up for it, and it seemed to me that the men were in support of such a move," Lindsey said. "Perhaps I should accompany you, to see what other magicians may have been working in his service. I don't believe we're in danger from their military power at this point, but an unknown sorcerer could still do some damage."

"Even against you?" Gerard asked, smiling at her.

Lindsey's face turned wry. "Even I have my off days, believe it or not." 

"Jamia, can you continue to work with me and Ray to settle in the knights that are still here?" Gerard asked, turning his attention back to defense.

She nodded. "Of course. Oh, and Mikey was wondering when you would be announcing the engagement."

There was a pause as Gerard look at his brother, who looked a touch sheepish. "You knew?"

Mikey shrugged. "I figured you'd tell me once it actually happened, so why bother pushing it?"

Gerard started to laugh, and Ray called out, "Well, and we know how it's going to go, given Mikey's tendency to See disasters coming from years away!"

It was hard to mind the teasing, given the way Frank was beaming back at him, his eyes containing none of the worry present there just a few minutes ago.

Gerard clapped his hands together. "Very well then. But my question is, when do we hold the banquet?" 

It was held two days later, the night before Frank would leave to return to his kingdom. The air was a mixture of excitement and mourning; Camelot had won the battle decisively and with relatively few casualties, comparatively, but that was a poor comfort to those who had lost loved ones, or those knights who would never fully recover from their injuries. 

But it was spring, and a time of rebirth and growth once more, and people drank to celebrate and drank to forget, all coming together as one before life would continue on.

Gerard could feel how the crowd responded when they caught sight of Frank up at the head of the main table with him, their eyes lingering over the finery he wore, the jewels and the crown. They had fashioned a new one out of the dead King Edward's audacious crown, this one more befitting the occasion but marking him clearly as the royalty he was. It would be good to give the people of Camelot one more thing to celebrate, Gerard knew. 

He spent the first half of the evening in quiet conversation with each knight who came up to the table to pay his respect. Many of them watched Frank with open curiosity, waiting to see if he would contribute to the conversation, but Frank sat there quietly, smiling at them when they looked over but not offering anything more. There was a part of Gerard that admired how he built the suspense, the mystery he created, although it wasn't something he could ever succeed at doing. He had barely been able to stop himself from starting every conversation with "Have you met my future husband?"

After all the barrels of mead had been cracked open, all goblets still full to the brim, Gerard finally stood, looking out over his court. He smiled.

"This has not been an easy winter, for many of us." He looked over at where many of the knights sat together, some of the most familiar faces missing. A few of them would return, like Spencer once his arm healed fully, but many were gone forever. "We struggled through attacks on our lands and our people, and three days ago we were confronted with the most difficult challenge yet.

"We rose to meet it, however, and we prevailed, demonstrating to all around us what Camelot stands for in the fight. We stand for friendship and for freedom, for the belief that each of us has something to contribute, no matter how small. And we stand for the future: expanding who and what Camelot is today, through new alliances and efforts towards improving the lives of all, not just the few." Gerard glanced down at Frank, who rose and stood next to him, his posture easy and loose like it had never been before. "You may have noticed that there is not just one king in this room. I speak now not just for Camelot's future, but for Mercia's future as well, for they will forever be linked through our union."

There was a murmur through the crowd, and Gerard took Frank's hand, squeezing it tightly. "There may be two kings before you, but there will be one kingdom, one rule, and one prosperity. We both join you all in mourning those we have lost, and in looking forward to the future we are building together." 

Gerard and Frank waited for the court to respond, and after a moment more of silence, they did, the cheers led by the tables of knights who followed the examples of Ray and Jamia. Gerard felt it swell up in his belly, the approval that came from those around them, even those individuals who looked more perplexed than fully comprehending. 

But it was enough. The future had started.

 

_Epilogue_

 

Gerard was in the midst of yet another discussion with Ray about the proper balance of fighting grounds and new public gardens when Ryan entered the room. 

"Yes, Ryan, what is it?" he asked, still distracted by the argument at hand. 

"Oh, nothing too important, Sire, only that Frank and Jamia have returned," Ryan said casually.

Gerard looked over at Ray immediately, who held up his hand in defeat. "We'll continue this later?" Ray asked in a voice that sounded very much like he didn't think it was a question at all.

As Gerard was leaving the room he attempted to say something to Ray, something about rescheduling for tomorrow morning, perhaps, but he wasn't too sure he said it clearly.

He was fairly certain that Ray understood, in any event. 

Frank had been at his own castle for almost three months, a separation that was necessary but far longer than they liked, even now. But there was increasing unrest up north, and it was decided that each of them remaining in their ancestral seat of power would be the most effective way to quash the disputes. 

The frequent messengers who traveled back and forth had delivered progressively more positive pieces of news about the evolving unrest, so much so that Gerard was no longer worried about the outcome of the conflict. If he also used the messengers to give Frank letters detailing Gerard's progressive desperation for his husband to come home to him, well, no one needed to know that but them. 

He did rather hope that the messengers were as reliable as they were supposed to be, in not peeking at the information they carried, but if they happened to learn a bit more about their kings' sexual proclivities due to curiosity, they had no one to blame but themselves. 

Gerard ran through the halls, stopping off first in the courtyard and then doubling back as soon as Jamia called out, "He went straight to your rooms," increasing his pace so much that by the time he opened his door and saw Frank lying back on their bed, he could barely breathe at all.

That was hardly worth worrying about, given that he would have had no breath at the sheer sight before him anyway. He swallowed hard, looking over Frank's body before settling on his face, the curve of his cheek, the brightness in his eyes. "Welcome home, love." 

Frank smiled up at him happily. "You can welcome a king better than that." And that was a challenge Gerard was more than happy to accept. He forced himself not to run up to him and just collapse over his body, instead walking up to the bed slowly, trailing his hand up Frank's leg as he went. 

But Frank took matters into his own hands, sitting up as soon as Gerard was close enough and tugging him down for a kiss. And even two years in, Gerard still couldn't believe how he felt every time he touched Frank's lips with his own, the way it rocketed through his body, simultaneously the most comforting and most intoxicating sensation in the world. He moaned, opening his mouth to Frank, and Frank took the invitation, pulling Gerard down into the bed and showing him how much Frank had missed him. 

Later, Gerard spooned up behind Frank, arms wrapped tightly around him, Gerard breathing in his scent at the nape of his neck. "I missed you," he said, stating the obvious, but he had to voice it, had to state it verbally.

Frank reached back and squeezed Gerard's thigh, still sweaty and trembling a little. "You need to tell me everything I missed while I was gone. You can't have told me everything in your letters."

Gerard smiled against his ear, kissing the lobe. "Mikey had quite the vision a few days ago?"

At that Frank turned around in Gerard's arms, gazing up at him. "Oh really? Nothing bad, I'm guessing, from the look on your face."

Gerard shook his head, the grin on his face hurting his cheeks. "Nothing bad, although I will say I've never seen his face as white as it was the morning after he had it. The last time he had climbed into our bed due to a vision it was for something much worse, so I must confess I was rather worried about you when I first saw him."

Frank leaned up and kissed him in response, stroking over his face. "I was fine. The rebels were easily subdued, I told you. And Jamia can be quite ferocious when she needs to be."

"That I believe," Gerard responded, yelping a bit when Frank pinched his side in impatience. "Yes, yes, I'll tell you. In about six months' time, you and I will be uncles." He beamed down at Frank, his excitement at future tiny people running around his castle already threatening to overflow.

Frank went still, looking up at Gerard in shock. "Uncles? Really? Has Piglet been told? How is she dealing with the fact that she'll have a brother or sister?"

"Brother, Mikey said, at least assuming the vision was accurate," Gerard said cheerfully. "And as for the rest, you'll have to ask Piglet yourself to find out."

"Oh, I will," Frank said, his actions belying his words, as he tugged Gerard back down into the bed. "We should sleep."

"Frank, it's barely two o'clock in the afternoon."

"The world can have you later," Frank said with an air of finality, and Gerard judicially decided that a nap was an excellent idea. 

They arose a few hours later to meet with the rest of the round table, bringing in the full membership for this council. Brendon and Spencer were both eager to be part of the knights that went up north to be stationed at the other castle for the winter in order to continue keeping the peace, which Jamia looked rather pleased about. (She and Lindsey had spent almost as much time apart as Frank and Gerard had these past two years; Lindsey had not quite developed a method for traveling far distances in a flash that didn't result in rather disastrous consequences for the frogs she attempted it on. But still she worked.)

"And finally, Ray is still not quite satisfied with the amount of land allocated for a community garden," Gerard said after they had been fully briefed by Frank on the status of the uprising. "And while I do agree that it would be lovely, we do need to share the space."

"Gerard, you have all the space you could possibly want," Lindsey said. "You have two full kingdoms' worth at this point. Surely there is enough to give a dear friend a little project." 

Ray began to protest at the description of his garden as a 'little project,' and Gerard let the ensuing discussion wash over him, watching as Jamia got involved merely to cause trouble, while Mikey observed them with a look of quiet amusement. He glanced over at Frank, his heart swelling at the happiness he saw on his face, and then he looked back at his round table full of his friends. 

His family. 

He banged his hand on the table twice, waiting for them to focus back up on him before he resolved this the way he tended to end more and more of them. "Mikey, you can't fool me, what did you See in your dreams about this garden?"

Mikey looked back at him placidly, a tiny smile crossing his lips. "I saw a garden that is full and lush along the southern slope, heading down towards the river."

Gerard attempted to ignore Ray's triumphant crowing in the background. He still required one more piece of information. "Does this seem like a good plan, though? How did it feel? Is this a warning or a recommendation?"

A faint blush spread over Mikey's cheeks. "Well, given that you and Frank were down there with my son, helping him plant some flowers, I would say the indications are positive."

Gerard broke into a huge grin, glancing over at Frank to find a matching expression on his face. "The future looks bright indeed."

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Please check out the fabulous art by mrsronweasley [here!](http://mistresscurvy.livejournal.com/100521.html) And don't miss the amazing mix created by knight_tracer [here!](http://mistresscurvy.livejournal.com/100717.html)


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